


Chocolate and the Art of Zen Negotiations

by TheWatcherObserves



Category: Star Trek (2009), Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Complete, Diplomacy, Dramedy, Espionage, F/M, Humor, Marriage, Martial Arts, New Vulcan, Pon Farr, Relationship Negotiation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-23
Updated: 2013-10-23
Packaged: 2017-12-30 05:25:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 21,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1014653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWatcherObserves/pseuds/TheWatcherObserves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How do you prove your love and negotiate for a homeland? Spock discovers an unusual solution.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Combat and Other Relationship Issues

**Author's Note:**

> All non-original characters belong to their respective owners.
> 
> This story provides insight on Spock's efforts to nurture his relationship with Uhura under the stress of Vulcan resettlement. This is a POV describing the settlement of the Vulcan remnant. 
> 
> Comments and kudos greatly appreciated.
> 
> If you *really* like it, tell J J Abrams. I need the money.

" _He who knows when he can fight and when he cannot, will be victorious_ "

\- Sun Tzu

* * *

The bridge crew on the U.S.. Enterprise prepared for the shift change.

"Status, all positions" Uhura requested. She waited:

"Helm! Ready."

"Navigation! Ready"

The final station took longer than it shoud have.  _What is he doing?_ she thought impatiently.

 _Spock? Report!_ She knew he'd heard her telepathic command.

"Science station ready; first officer reporting"

That was more like it.

"All stations ready. Shift relieved." and with that she removed her ear transceiver and left the bridge. The turbo-lift could not move fast enough for her today. She had 30 minutes to shower, change clothes and get dinner on the table before Spock arrived . Today, the lift was taking forever.

She bolted through the lift doors at a jog, nearly colliding with the maintenance bot. Uhura hoped no one had seen her miscalculation in the corridor leading to her quarters - she'd been a little too aggressive in starting to undress.

* * *

The comm unit in her quarters interrupted her progress towards dinner.

"Uhhh! What now?" A master of multitasking, she hopped over to the unit while inserting her earring and zipping her boot then punched the button.

"Uhura!" Irritation laced her identification.  _Spock_ _ **hates**_ _it when dinner is late._

"Lieutenant Uhura," the automated message started "You are scheduled for Basic Unarmed Combat training at 18:30. Please acknowledge receipt of this message". That was in 10 minutes.

Only two officers on this ship could schedule her for combat training.

"Computer, who signed the training orders?" She ripped her blouse changing into her sweats.

"Commander Spock"

Only one officer on this ship would schedule her for combat training  **and**  break their dinner date.

She hit the acknowledgment button so hard it left a bruise. Tonight's dinner, like Uhura, would be cold.

* * *

"Spock! Why am I here!?"

Her anger did not surprise Spock.

The ensign assembling the course obstacles shot a worried look at Spock. Uhura hadn't used his rank when addressing him. This was personal. Completing the last installation steps in record time, he sent a hasty "Commander" in Spock's direction, saluted and escaped.

Spock tapped on his PADD methodically, knowing full well a confrontation was imminent. When he finished, he turned to acknowledge her. The wait for his answer did not improve her attitude.

"Lieutenant. Thank you for being punctual." he said evenly.

"Punctual? Spock, I left the bridge  **30\. minutes. ago. You. Were. There.**  Why am I here? And why did you schedule dinner with me if you had all this - " she panned her arm to take in the training room "- planned?"

"Lieutenant, I scheduled this training to enhance your value to the away teams. As for dinner - " he paused to get the language just right. He knew he would be spending several nights alone either way. "- it was the most logical way to ensure you would be... available."

Her eyes flared. Despite the situation, the feisty heat coming off of her stimulated him - although he resigned himself to the reality that it would be a while before he could do what he was thinking, given her present state of mind. Hours. Days, even.

"Shall we begin, Lieutenant?" Spock hoped his professional manner would at least allow them to complete today's exercises. Her eyes scanned the room; incredulous, she confronted him again.

"Am I your only student!?"  _Uh-oh_. He'd learned the word from her during their Academy days. A miscalculation.

"This training has been designed specifically for your unique development needs" More diplomatic language. It had absolutely no impact on her attitude; it did motivate her to close the distance between them very quickly.

When he'd analyzed how this encounter might go, Spock calculated a 74.9% chance that she would "get in his space". With no change in expression, he calmly waited - never taking his eyes from hers.

"Are you saying that I'm not valuable now, Mr. Spock?" As predicted, she tried to occupy the space he stood in. As planned, he executed a Dim Mak offensive takedown, slamming her into the floor padding hard enough to knock the wind out of her. As hard, he estimated, as would any Klingon or Romulan they might encounter.

Wheezing, forcibly emptied of air, she flipped herself over but remained on her hands and knees longer than he'd expected. Spock did not allow himself to worry about her or to help her regain her feet despite his overriding desire to do both. She would resent the former and reject the latter.

Gasping, her head came up, "What did that prove, Spock?". He was surprised by her tears - had he hurt her?

"It proves, Lieutenant, that this training will benefit you. Have you recovered sufficiently to begin?"

Dropping her head as she climbed to her feet again, she gave a mirthless laugh.

"Yes, Mr. Spock. This time I'm ready."

Spock sighed mentally at his impending bachelorhood  _*sigh... it could be weeks..._

 _Damn, right!_ he heard as she started the workout.

 


	2. 15 Minutes of Fame

" _I awoke one morning and found myself famous._ "

\- Lord George Gordon Byron

* * *

"... that link to the Vulcan High Council on the double" Kirk barked the command through the opening turbo lift doors.  _Just like him to start the command before I can even hear it._ She was agitated.

"Aye, sir. I have Ambassador Sarek on the comm." she replied as sharply as she could get away with. The tone was not lost on Kirk.

"Thank. You.  _Lieutenant._ " came the reply, a razor covered in silk. Score: Kirk - 1, Uhura - 0. Catching his movements in her peripheral vision, she sent Sarek's link to the main deck screen, anticipating his next command.

"That's more like it, Lieutenant. Ambassador! Kirk, here. It's a pleasure to speak with you again. What's the status on New Vulcan?" Sarek didn't flinch. Resolute in his control he calmly updated Kirk on the progress on the new Vulcan home world.

"...we find ourselves with much remaining but we progress acceptably." Sarek finished.

"Excellent! How can the Enterprise assist you?"

"As you know, New Vulcan settled rather quickly after Nero's rampage. The P'lstin government has been most gracious but terms and conditions remain to be decided to make our presence permanent. We will need open access to use the nearby moons to rebuild star bases. We cannot compromise the Prime Directive in doing so. It seemed logical to conduct such negotiations on the Enterprise. The P'lstins are a provisional Federation member without a starbase of their own."

 _You sly dog,_ Kirk smiled to the screen,  _dangle some Federation eye candy and get them to give you want you want, huh?_ Why not; Sarek negotiated for a people who had lost a world.

"The Enterprise would be happy to help. When would you like to set up the negotiations?"

"The rational course would be soon. Can you be ready in ten galactic days?"

The confident smile never left Kirk's face as he did the mental calculations. Not that they mattered; this was Sarek, leader of the Vulcan remnant and father of Vulcan's and Earth's savior.

"Meet us at coordinates 280 mark 32. Shall I plan for..." (a bit more mental math) "30?"

"30 will serve us well. I will contact you if the conference attendance increases. One more request, Captain. Would it be possible to assign Spock to the negotiations? He has geological and astral knowledge that would be beneficial to our negotiations."

 _Wow! He's going to use his rock-star son against the P'lstins? This guys reminds me more and more of humans every day,_  Kirk decided.

"I will relay your request to him personally. He is presently away from the bridge."

"Thank you, Kirk. Live long and prosper." Sarek crooned as his left hand formed the Vulcan "V".

"Plan to do so, sir. Kirk out"

_Away form the bridge... I wonder where...?_

"Uhura, get Macintyre up here to relieve you. I need you to take over planning this soiree."

"Captain, I am scheduled for shore leave in 3 galactic"  _Well deserved shore leave..._

"Can't be helped. You known basic P'lthin and you're my most experienced officer with Vulcan language and cultural protocols. Assign whoever you need." He waited for her acknowledgement.

"Uhura?"

"Aye-aye Captain" came the response; distracted, already thinking.

"Mr. Sulu, you have the..." The last word was trapped in the turbo lift.

 


	3. Silence is not so Golden

" _Silence is so freaking loud_ "

\- Sarah Dessen

* * *

He had not spoken. Not when he set the table. Not when he carefully ladled each dinner item into its specific serving bowl nor when he carefully placed each bowl on the dining table they shared. Certainly not while she silently prayed, giving thanks for the meal and asking for patience with her beloved.

There was silence as he gently spooned servings onto both their plates. When they met, she'd incorrectly assumed he couldn't cook; the only child - and male - of a doting mother wouldn't have to learn, in her analysis. Each dinner morsel was selected, lifted, placed and chewed with unbelievable silence. She'd never known it was possible to empty a plate without the fork ever clinking on its surface, even using composite polymer kitchenware.

He stopped her wordlessly as she vainly tried to clear the table and of course, no sounds emerged as he placed the used items in the recycler and the remaining food into cryo-storage. Cat-like, he crossed from the table to the living area floor where he deftly folded himself into his meditative pose and slowly closed his eyes to meditate.

Well, she thought, time to make some noise...

* * *

" _The first principle of contract negotiations is don't remind them of what you did in the past - tell them what you're going to do in the future_."

\- Stan Musial

" _...about compromise; it's about doing something for the other person, even when you don't want to._ "

\- Nicholas Sparks

* * *

Knowing how lightly he now slept, Uhura decided to use the sex ruse. She had gone to bed expecting their normal nightly ritual but he altered the process. Spock walked directly into the shower and stayed long enough for her to fall into a fitful sleep. When she stirred he was on his back in bed, breathing deeply and evenly. They weren't touching. At all.

Using a deliberate motion she turned in his direction, slowly unwinding and straightening her shape as a prelude. With each move her mind reached to find him but he was silent there too, shut off from her as if they were strangers and not lovers.  _Dammit, Spock!_ she thought. Of the many things she suspected about him, petulance hadn't been on the list. However, having decided a plan of action, Nyota Uhura continued. Almost there, almost ready for touch and contact..

"I am not asleep, Nyota"

Ok. Plan B.

"What's on your mind?" She hoped he caught the unspoken thought -  _...since you've closed it to me..._  Spock took a measured breath to return himself to full attentiveness.  _No sleep tonight._

"You know your place in my mind and heart," These words Spock spoke not with urgency or passion or need but as a statement of fact. Yet it reached deep within her, as did her awareness of the slow unfurling of his thoughts that had been hidden from her since they entered his quarters. She felt their bonding, sought to sink deeper into his thought-self...

"...and yet you deny me a similar place despite the fact that you say you have placed me in your heart and mind as well"  _Here we go_ , she sighed, mentally. Too late she realized she was open to him and regretted her mistake instantly.

"Spock. Bond-mate. I am incomplete without you. You know that with a truth beyond words." She spoke the traditional Vulcan vow of bonding.

"But you will not marry me" She heard the hint of sadness she had sometimes doubted Vulcans were capable of. Certainly her mother, a respected xeno-sociologist in her own right, had doubted that many truly nuanced emotions remained within the Vulcan diaspora after years of cultural purging by koh'linar ritual. Except, of course, for the Pon Farr. A sad Spock was almost beyond bearing. But not so burdensome that she would agree to marriage until she was sure.

"Spock, please listen. We've been over this so many times, I have very good reasons for not wanting to get married yet."

"Yes. You have informed me so frequently that I have memorized them. As I understand it reason 1 is that we do not need to be married as we are bonded physically and psychically so.."

... _there is no closer relationship_

They both finished telepathically _. Jinx, you're "it"_  she thought at the simultaneous words. Spock had no interest in playing the children's game with her, however. He turned to face her with ridged eyebrows descending to meet rising eye lashes.

"Reason 2" he continued "is that it would be disrespectful to marry in your culture until my father and I spend considerable time with your family so that our parents can discuss whether I am a suitable mate for you. I must say that I fail to see the logic in evaluating me as a husband when I have already been your lover for some time. Did your parents not care about your other sexual partners?"

Spock was back to being Vulcan again, trying to apply reason where emotion held sway.  _  
_

Spock wasn't one of her sex partners; he was her ONLY sex partner. He knew her to be a virgin when they consummated.

They both suspected - only half jokingly - that, given any indication of a breakup, Jim Kirk would love to console a newly "single" Uhura. Nyota shivered at the thought.

Spock, mistaking her shiver for discomfort, tucked her in more carefully before continuing. "Reason 3 concerns our difference of opinion on family size. I fail to understand why two young, healthy bond mates need to decide on family size before entering into marriage -"

"Stop! Stop! Stop!" she cut him off "You won't even discuss it. Vulcan families rarely have 2 kids. Uhuras have big families. Huge. Even by earth standards. And we're fertile. My grandmother had eleven children, Spock. Eleven. And she was using contraceptives half the time. My mother would've had more than six kids if she and my father could've managed more joint assignments. You have no idea what it's like to have kids underfoot for 20 or 30 years. If you're serious about marriage -"

"K'diwa, I am Vulcan. We do not joke about love or sex."

"Half Vulcan, Spock.  **Half**!" she almost yelled, warming to the argument.  _Gonna be great make-up sex after this one,_ she concluded. "You like to forget you are half human and were raised by a human mother. A mother with 3 siblings. Family size matters to me, Spock; if we're both going to have Star Fleet careers and a family, we have to work together. We have to agree  _ **before**_  we get married."

Out of the darkness, she heard him speak again "Reason 4 is that you want a full Vulcan wedding during Pon Farr..." Spock whispered "Pon Farr" as if the very words could damage him in some way. " ...which should not occur for 1.67 earth standard years. You do not truly understand what you ask."

"Yes I do. Spock..." she began to whisper "You've lost your home, your planet, your mother. Pon Farr, the bonding, is important. It's a tradition we should wait for and keep." He was quiet again which made Nyota very nervous.

 _Heart of my heart, for our children who will be Vulcans, who will feel Pon Farr, we should honor your family too._  Was he open to her? Did he absorb her mental plea? She waited for him, in the dark, stroking his cheek and jaw bone to enhance their telepathic link.

"If I satisfy each condition you have set, will you marry me Nyota Uhura? I will not ask again." Shielding immediately, the word  _Uh-oh_  ran through her mind. Spock had had enough of chasing her.

Re-opening herself to him almost immediately, she gave him the answer she needed him to have.  _Let me think about it_. His shields barely beat his body in retreating from her.

With bruised emotions on both sides, great make-up sex did not occur.

 _What have I done?_ came the plea from both minds.

 


	4. Combat and The Benefits of Repetition

"Can you imagine what I do if I could do all I can?"

\- Sun Tzu

For days unending Spock monopolized her free time with conditioning drills for her combat training. Uhura had never been so tired or sore even factoring in Vulcan lovemaking - of which there had been none. Running, full speed hurdling, climbing on the hop then the obstacle course. Over and over again. She wouldn't let him see that the regimen was kicking her ass. His custom program was designed to increase her muscle mass by 15% and her endurance by 50%. Privately she smiled, knowing she'd never been in better shape. Too bad she and Spock were still living on opposite sides of the relationship neutral zone. Just when she thawed to this training idea he stiffened to her resistance to marriage. Shame; she finally had the stamina to keep up with him in bed.

"Dim Mak remains a highly efficient form of combat when the combatants are of unequal size and strength." Spock regretted his word choice as soon as it left his lips. She cut a look at him but, surprisingly, didn't challenge him further.

"Dim Mak originated on Earth's Asian continent but spread to nearby systems including Vulcan and Romulus. Practitioners of Dim Mak learn efficient methods for incapacitating their opponents. The Vulcan nerve pinch evolved from Dim Mak." Hmm. She didn't know that. She wondered if she would master that sufficiently to use it on Spock.

"Dim Mak exploits key weak spots in an opponent's nervous system. It is an ideal combat style for you, Lieutenant, because it requires only the ability to avoid contact from your opponent. Size is eliminated as an advantage. And your demonstrated skills in xeno-biology, xeno-physiology and xeno-sociology give you a decided advantage. You will have detailed knowledge of your opponent while they will underestimate the formidable capability of a human female. From the African continent."

She rewarded him with a grin that he missed.

Spock continued. "To become expert in this combat form requires accurate knowledge of your opponent's physiology - " he did catch her knowing smile and chose to ignore it " - combined with the speed, agility and strength to exploit their weakness. If you master this, you will be lethal."

_Baby, you just don't know..._

"As you have basic knowledge of Vulcan physiology, we will begin by identifying every vulnerable point and practicing how to attack them using different moves."

Uhura knew more than some Star Fleet medical personnel about Vulcan physiology; she attributed this to having her own personal Vulcan to study. But Spock introduced her to so much more. He drilled her attack to every target. He drilled frontal attacks. He drilled rear attacks. He drilled two-step moves, three-step moves, a million-step moves. Spock had her heaving, barely able to keep down the water he forced her to drink. Next came counter moves. She repeated all of the attacks but this time Spock countered each one, forcing her to improvise. She collapsed to the mat after the last touch.

"Done. Learned a lot." she told him between gasps.

"Excellent. When you have recovered sufficiently, we will begin mock combat. Your goal will be to attack three vulnerable points on each side of my body."

Spock pounded her senseless in mock combat for two more hours without another word.


	5. You Think You Got Problems

" _Never let a problem to be solved become more important than the person to be loved_."

\- Barbara Johnson

* * *

In his quarters, alone  _again_ , Spock brooded over the crisis in his relationship with Uhura. Why she did not see his desperation for a traditional marriage he did not understand completely. Despite Kunat-So'lik, the ancient pre-Surak bond he'd invoked on Earth, she would insist on being married according to her traditions when she discovered what he'd done. He hoped.

To get her to the altar, Spock would have to - as Sulu had once told him - "step up his game".

So much easier for humans, he mused, to speak of their innermost selves to those they cherished. Spock had no memory of the word "love" in his youth except from his mother - and she was human. How had she lived all those years, he wondered, with a man incapable of reinforcing their bond aloud, forever aloof and distanced. Always balanced and equivocal. Never a soft word or loving touch in public. That type of man was driving Nyota Uhura further away with each passing day. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Spock typed quickly on the PADD and checked, for the last time he would need to, the information required. He walked over to the replicator, programmed the formula then pushed the fabrication button. The output surprised him by its small size and dark color.  _So much in so little_.

Before he could reanalyze his decision, he swallowed its contents. The whole thing. Uhura would know the lengths he would go to for her love.

In only moments, Spock did not feel so good.

* * *

She knew Spock could be silent. She'd never known him to be unavailable.

To meet the demands of the upcoming negotiations, she turned over her station to Macintyre. She'd been rough on the young comm officer over the last few days - demanding, in fact.  _Listen to me. Macintyre is less than a year younger than me._  The crew who'd dealt with Nero then Khan in rapid succession were much older than other members of their graduating classes, especially the ones who'd died.

Today, she spent 4 hours researching what was left of the Vulcan diplomatic and political archives and stitching together enough information to avoid offending the Vulcans. A quick message to Spock communicated her late arrival for dinner. Another hour on P'lthin mores and customs and another note followed delaying dinner further. Completing today's-tonight's work with team designations and personnel assignments, she left her quarters and headed for Spock's.

An unaccompanied turbo lift trip leaves time for thought. Lots of time for thought. Lots of time to realize that she hadn't heard from Spock. No comm or mental contact. That was unusual despite their recent difficulties. Come to think of it, she hadn't received an acknowledgement of her messages either. She sighed, mentally; fence mending would be required this evening. The rift between them was widening.

Annoyed at the male pattern ego behavior - Vulcan edition - she announced herself to his door. Nothing happened. Not one to enter his quarters (yet) without his permission, she announced again with the same result.

"Computer - locate Commander Spock"

"Commander Spock is in SickBay"

Memory returned: Spock's annual physical. McCoy must have finally pulled rank on him.

"Uhura to McCoy." The answer leapt from the device. "McCoy here."

"Is Commander Spock still in Sick Bay?" A long pause punctuated the conversation.

"Yes he is. But I'm not done with him."

"Would you ask him if we're still having dinner together this evening?"

Another pause. Her sensitive hearing would swear that McCoy had just covered the mic with his hand while he argued with Spock.  _Men!_

"Uhura? I'm keeping him here a day or so. I, uh, I just got all the equipment calibrated for him and I don't want to let him get away. Sorry; he's my date tonight."

They were up to something; Spock couldn't lie so he got McCoy to do it for him. She considered being angry at both of them but decided it wasn't worth it.

"Thank you, doctor. Uhura out."

* * *

The swoosh caused Kirk to step back reflexively. Bones entered the lift.

"Computer - Hello, Bones- " this aimed at Leonard McCoy, ship's doctor "- locate Commander Spock and reroute"

Kirk quickly processed the dual reply "Commander Spock is in Medical".

"What's going on Bones?" Jim was all business now, stopping the lift in mid-flight.

"No idea, Jim. But something  **is**  going on. I gave him a routine physical and from everything we know about Vulcans, Spock's having some kind of medical crisis."

"You sure? Have you..." but McCoy cut him off.

"He's an ambassador's son and I'm not an idiot. I sent his tests onto the Vulcan Medical Academy. But I'm not too sure they can help, Jim - I saw what was left of their medical archive. From what I'm seeing, day by day these readings will get worse. And I'm damned if I know what to do."

"What does Spock say?"  _Ok_ , Kirk thought,  _it's worth a try_. McCoy's " _Really, Jim?_ " expression communicated his response effectively. Kirk dropped his eyes in thought then spoke "Is he fit for duty?"

"Hold it, Jim! I just told you that Mr. Indestructible, your green-blooded pointy eared friend who nearly died bringing you back from **the** **dead** isn't quite so indestructible anymore. _**Do you need your hearing checked!**_?"

"Special mission, special request." With that intro, Kirk filled him in on the negotiations and Sarek's request. McCoy's eyes lost some of their indignant stare as Kirk spoke. Some, not all.

"When I know, you'll know. Don't push me, Jim. He could be dying for all I can tell." Still smarting, McCoy faced the lift doors; Kirk knew they were done for now.

Restarting the turbo lift, Kirk nodded an acknowledgement to McCoy's back.


	6. 15 minutes of Fame is Too Many Minutes

_'Name one hero who was happy_.'

_I considered. Heracles went mad and killed his family; Theseus lost his bride and father; Jason's children and new wife were murdered by his old; Bellerophon killed the Chimera but was crippled by the fall from Pegasus' back._

' _You can't.'_ _He was sitting up now, leaning forward_.

' _I can't._ '

' _I know. They never let you be famous AND happy._ '

\- Madeline Miller

" _Fame means millions of people have the wrong idea of who you are._ "

\- Erica Jong

* * *

"PTSD?"

"Yes, Jim. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It's a reaction to extreme prolonged stress. Despite their attempts to turn themselves into androids, Vulcans still feel emotions, just like you and me. Inside they react to emotions, just like you and me. They just... hide it better."

"But they're still there, right? I thought that ritual, what is it - "

"The koh'linar"

"That one. I thought it got rid of them."

"Spock skipped that ritual during his teenage rebellion stage"

"So he still has all his emotions?"

"Not just has them but has them boiling, like a volcano. Volcanos eventually erupt."

"Is it because he's half human?"

"I went down that path. Read this." and McCoy handed Jim a print out labeled Vulcan Medical Academy of New Vulcan.

"Bones, this is bad..."

"Think I don't know it?" McCoy used his hand to punctuate each point.

"It's a perfect storm: Repressed emotions. Natural telepaths. A horrible planetary death. Millions of linked minds gone. Survivor shock and guilt. Tons of posthumous commendations and funerals - that year we were in drydock, he or Sarek went to every memorial on every planet, Jim. Add in constant news coverage, interviews with vidcams jammed in his face. Honestly Jim, I'm surprised every Vulcan in this quadrant isn't stark, raving mad.

"Those doctors -" McCoy pounded the paper with his extended finger "are getting reports from nearly every Vulcan on nearly every planet. Suicide rates are off the charts. Even the doctors struggle with it. So here it is: he can come back to LIMITED duty, because what else can I give him to do; but he's fragile. He can't take much more."

"Look, Bones. It's not a stressful job. Just stand around and act like eye candy while Sarek picks the P'lthins pockets. Eat, drink, talk. No time travel. No red matter. No genetically engineered Superman. Just some booze and food for a few weeks. Sarek wants him there and I'm not explaining to the Admiral-of-the-Week back at Star Fleet that Spock - the Vulcan that saved the world TWICE - is having bad dreams and not feeling quite himself. You want to see stress? What stress do you think the Federation will have if the P'lthins take back New Vulcan because we slighted them? I need Spock back, Bones. Just for a while."

Bones looked into Kirk's eyes trying to confirm his motivations.

"I'll return him for negotiation support duty ONLY, Captain" Kirk caught the meaning.

"Fine, doctor. I appreciate that. Make sure he has something to help him sleep."

"You ever read the comics? Probably not; you're a bit young for the nostalgia wave that brought them back."

"My asshole step-father collected them. I used to sell them to my friends when he wasn't looking." Kirk moved aimlessly around McCoy's office, impatient to sign Spock's medical release.

"Remember the real Superman?" Bones asked while he typed on the med-con.

"Yeah... Yeah. The guy who came to earth as a kid from another planet. Strong, smart and could fly. He had that place in the Arctic circle - what was it called - the, uh, the, ummm - the Fortress of Solitude!" Kirk moved to the med-con and co-signed the orders to return Spock to duty.

"Remember kryptonite?"


	7. There's a saying about Chains and Weak Links...

" _Remember; upon the conduct of each depends the fate of all_ "

\- Alexander the Great

* * *

With Spock as McCoy's prisoner for a few days, Nyota Uhura became hyper-efficient. Spock initiated a light touch, more to anchor himself than to truly communicate but she shielded him from much of her efforts. Not all her Vulcan study had been focused on diplomatic courtesies and P'lthin politics. She sensed he wasn't well.

She had accomplished a near miracle setting up the negotiations and Kirk was the first to check it out and commend her results. Back in the Captain's conference room she debriefed him on the P'lthins:

"Culturally the P'lthins could be considered peaceful. Their small cities and towns see little in the way of crime, The local constabulary provides important services such as grocery carrying, argument arbitration at the local barbershop and refereeing at local schools.

"P'lthins are happiest in family units of 5 to 8 members; they marry young and they marry for life. As a society, P'lthins distrust unmarried adults; compassionate pity compells P'lthin citizens to assist in removing the bachelorhood of any unmarried adult in the community.

"P'lthins cherish their children in a way seldom witnessed on most Federation planets. Their society evolved to ensure that children receive the time and care necessary for healthy bodies and minds. School and community activities involving youth draw support from entire towns. Businesses close and work stops for youth sports competitions. When unavoidable tragedy strikes a young person, the P'lthin nation mourns with their families.

"The societal emphasis on youth results in an educated society capable of reasoned thought. As with most educated cultures, the P'lthins appreciated humor; their wit could be described as sharp and quick.

"P'lthins are not cursed with height. Taller than Hobbits but shorter than most Federation citizens, P'lthins feel uncomfortable when surrounded by tall people. Their usually friendly nature can be quickly turned by a poorly placed comment regarding height

"Captain, I have to tell you. I'm not sure Sarek's strategy will work here." she concluded.

"Is there a problem, Lieutenant?"

"I think the Vulcans have misread the P'lthins; their strategy doesn't match up with the circumstances. Look at this - " She pulled up New Vulcan's debrief beside her own. Virtually identical outlines stared back at them, a by-product of Uhura's deep knowledge of Vulcans, especially the one on the Enterprise.

"See here? There's no mention of P'lthin societal behavior. That's critical to getting inside their heads. What they'll give up - and what they'll defend to the death - is crucial to communicating with them and winning. That information is inside their culture."

Kirk's Spidey sense told him she had found a hole in Sarek's game plan. No many could've caught it.

"What next, Captain?"

"Let's get Sarek on board the Enterprise and we'll discuss it here. I'm guessing the New Vulcan diplomatic staff is pretty thin right now. We'll beef up the analysis with them. Can you send - "

The smile that broke his heart every time she flashed it told him she had, once again, anticipated his unspoken request.

Kirk's quick sniff announced a decision's arrival.

"Come with me, Lieutenant." he said abruptly, flashing his version of her smile.

"What are your intentions, Captain?"

"Will you please!? Stop! I'm not always trying to seduce some woman.. you.. Just - trust me a little bit. C'mon." He rose, extending a hand to her in a gentlemanly fashion. She rose, under her own power - ignoring the extended hand and following at a safe distance.

"You're gonna give me a complex, Uhura" He'd caught her off guard with that remark; her response put the truth to his intuition.

"With your ego!?" He laughed at her spontaneous outburst. "Where are you taking me, Captain?"

"Captain, Captain... What's with the Captain? We're off duty. Look. Will you just trust me 5 minutes?" With that said, they arrived at the transporter room. Handling the controls himself, he coaxed her onto the transporter pad and beamed them both to a remote storage area on the ship.

Since their first meeting at a bar near his hometown, Kirk and Uhura had developed a close, and very private, friendship. Both knew Kirk wouldn't hesitate to take it further - that was his nature. Both knew she would shut him down if he tried, and it would hurt physically. Both knew he respected her mind as much as her other attributes. Both knew she respected his as well.

So it was no surprise to her when Kirk transported two chairs and a bottle of his best really old bourbon to go with the transported table in a corner in the back of a cargo bay well off the beaten track, his own personal Bat Cave.

Pulling shot glasses from his uniform pocket, he poured both to overflowing and handed her one. Kirk downed his shooter and waited for the welcome burning to subside before speaking.

"We need to talk." She processed the hesitation at the end of his sentence -  _about Spock_.

Swallowing panic she composed herself inside and out before replying.

"What's going on?"

"I'm sorry! I thought you knew. McCoy thinks Spock's having a delayed stress reaction to all the, the.." he searched through the bourbon for the right world

"Disasters?" she offered.

"Disasters!" The burn from good bourbon almost swallowed the word; time for another shot before continuing. Jim poured for both of them then spoke again.

"I know Spock's been through a lot. But you heard Sarek; he needs Spock in those negotiations." Her gaze dropped slowly down to her glass before she threw back that mane of hair he loved about her, opened her mouth and drained the shot.

"Uhura, is there something going on with you two? I'm here for you. Both."

She considered unloading their recent dust up but decided the timing wasn't right. He mistook her silence for contemplation, a skill Jim Kirk did not have in abundance. So he tried another approach.

"What do you think McCoy should do for Spock?" She looked at him squarely as she poured the next two shots.

"I am fluent in many aspects of Vulcan culture and Vulcan history, Jim, but I am neither a xeno-biologist nor a xeno-physician. I wish I were..."

"You're better. You love that Vulcan so hard he blushes when you send him telepathic love notes . Is that how you aced his courses? Because I always wondered why - "

He paused as daggers narrowed her eyes and heat stiffened her posture.

"Wait-wait-wait-wait-wait! Don't get mad! It's true! Spock-the-Computer gets weak kneed when you send him those secret messages. I've seen you two on the bridge; it's like the Thing with Two Brains. It's creepy!" He faked a shiver as he drank and poured again "If anyone knows what he's thinking, what he needs to get through these negotiations, it's you. So no bullshit, Uhura. If it were your call, what would you do?"

"This is about the negotiations" She stated a fact.  _I sound like Spock now._

"Yes, yes it is" More shots. She poured.

"You're afraid he won't make it through, that he'll break down"

"Yes, yes I am"

"Well join the club, Jim. I can't find  _anything_  in the Vulcan medical records I've researched that explains his moodiness."  _So she has looked,_ Jim's two remaining brain cells registered. She turned her glass upside down; no more - she had two diplomatic delegations to manage tomorrow, rather this, morning. Tears dropped slowly down each cheek.

_Spock - you lucky bastard,_ Jim thought.

"Keep him on his feet Uhura. You will keep me informed if you have a break-through? Privately, of course."

She looked around at their surrounding then shook her head from side to side.

"Do you take all your dates to places like this?"

Drunken chuckles punctuated their departure.

* * *

Sarek arrived first. He was his own delegation for the time being

Sobering up, Kirk and Uhura decided it wasn't a good idea for Sarek to see his hero son escorted from Sick Bay before a critical diplomatic engagment. After some brainstorming - mostly shouting at each other and regretting the bourbon - they chose to divide and conquer. Kirk would entertain Sarek and the P'lthins while Uhura started Spock's day out with happy thoughts.

Wearing her earpiece to keep tabs on her team, Uhura assisted Spock in getting his dress uniform just right. Although he knew his role to be mostly ceremonial, Vulcan perfectionism could be difficult to manage. She did get him to agree to keep a light touch, so both could remain calm.

" _There will be an introduction meeting then lunch. There's a discussion on mineral rights and transport options in the vid room that I scheduled you out of. I can keep you company if you want."_

" _K'diwa. Your care has been excellent but I am not helpless. I am much better now. Please do not let my recent fatigue trouble you."_

" _You matter to me, Spock"_

After a final once-over, she declared him ready and prepared to meet the delegates.

Except plans had changed. The P'lthins had been told by Sarek to arrive for lunch, not before. Sarek wanted time to discuss strategy and tactics with Spock and Kirk.  _So much for an easy morning._

" _Spock, change of plans. We report to the Captain's conference room. On the double."_

McCoy grabbed her arm as they swung through Medical's doors.

"Take care of him Lieutenant. I'm holding you responsible."

_Take a number, doctor._ Stifling a mental sigh, she walked but did not hurry with Spock to the meet Sarek.

* * *

Sarek and Kirk approached the conference room from the hallway opposite direction of Uhura and Spock. Uhura's thoughts drifted to the details of lunch when she felt her mind slammed into a wall. On full alert now, she watched as Spock approached his father. The mental walls moved squeezing her tighter as they spoke the ritual Vulcan greetings. She felt unexplained aggression ramped up near her breaking point and she felt panic not her own. Locking her knees she watched a father/son meeting from the outside/inside, focusing hard on the difference between what was said and what was meant.

"Greetings, son. You have been well?"  _It is difficult to start over._

"I am well, Father. You are managing as planned?"  _Did she know you loved her? Did you "control" yourself with her as you did with me?_

"There are challenges. Much was lost that must be rebuilt. But the work proceeds admirably"  _When you have bonded, you will understand my life as it is. When she bears your child, you will know what I know._

It must have been the thought-word "bonded". Spock slowly turned to look at, then address, Uhura.

"Lieutenant, as the P'lthins will be arriving later than expected, I will assist you in modifying the arrangements. Father, I will return for lunch. We may speak at length then. Captain."

Waiting briefly for Uhura to precede him, Spock followed as they moved away from the conference room.

_Spock?_

_Not now, Nyota. Patience, please._

His pace moved him past her and she found herself almost running to keep up.  _Ok, he's upset. Well, he and Sarek do see the world differently_

She left him in his quarters when her second in command notified her of a new P'lthin demand. They insisted on providing the food for all meals; it was a matter of courtesy and honor.

Rushing down the corridor without running she wondered if Engineering had any openings.

* * *

Uhura handled the P'lthins food demands and rounded the corner leading to Spock's quarters on the hop. In her ear every 2 minutes, Kirk reiterated Sarek's "request" that Spock join them for strategy talks. Uhura's sensitive hearing, accustomed to confidence in all his actions, made out the barely hidden stress in Kirk's voice.

_This is Kirk's first diplomatic assignment. Great! One more man on this ship to babysit._

Taking a moment to compose herself and set her own shields, she announced herself at his door. "Come" aimed at the door from Spock's side allowed her to enter.

The scene in his quarters disturbed her. Spock had stripped his dress uniform and was laying, in his underwear, in the middle of the floor. The uniform, neat and pressed this morning, lay rumpled on his chair. Small, empty cups sat next to his left hand on the floor with crumbs of some tidbit left over.

"Spock, you are requested for negotiation planning." He said nothing. "Are you feeling ok?" He said even less. "If you're not feeling well, I can make apologies."

_No, k'diwa. That will not be necessary. I understand my duty to New Vulcan._ Shaky though he looked, her relief at his movement was unmistakeable. Dressing quickly so as not to draw a rebuke on her work, he walked past her. She felt him straighten in preparation for his meeting with Sarek - the name a trigger for the mental image she knew meant "mother". He turned around, his face intense.

"I will love you so all will know" and with that, he left the room.

_What the...! What brought that on?_

The words "...for better or for worse..." took on a new meaning for her right then.

Running again to keep up with him, they made their way to the Captain's conference room in record time.


	8. Too Many Wrong Mistakes

_"Never interrupt your adversary when he is making a mistake."_

\- Napoleon

* * *

Back in Iowa when every teacher thought James Kirk both genius and menace, Kirk developed a real interest in American history. After all, generations of Kirks had lived in the heartland dating back over 150 years. What Jim appreciated most was the chaotic, violent, messy way in which the American experience emerged. In many ways it mirrored his own life journey on a road filled not with pot holes and bumps but with craters and mountains.

Sitting in his quarters with two open bottles of well-aged Kentucky bourbon, Kirk knew exactly why these thoughts dominated his frontal cortex. The P'lthins caused this thought path. The damn P'lthins and these damn negotiations.

The same maddening quote from the "American Crisis" pamphlet, written at the founding of America, ran rampant in his mind in a sing-song pattern that gave him a headache despite the previous bottle of bourbon.

"These are the times that try men's souls..."

The negotiation's gag reel of mistakes, faux pas and unintended insults ran like a drive-in movie in his head.  _Gee_ , he thought,  _let's see how bad it is_...

* * *

On Day 1 the P'lthins arrived steaming - both literally and figuratively. Literally, they stood on transporter pads next to huge catering troughs carefully packed to prevent spillage. Thank goodness for Uhura; unperturbed by the crisis she made arrangements for the delivery of the lunch portion (which could have fed most of Iowa for 2 days) and arranged to store the remainder. She impressed the P'lthins with her smooth handling of this plan alteration, carefully placing each P'lthin dish prominently on the buffet while making a show of moving the Vulcan dishes to the rear.

The P'lthins steamed figuratively at Sarek's last minute change of schedule. Unbeknownst to the Vulcan diplomatic staff (and underpinning Uhura's suspicions about their disconnect with the P'lthins), an elaborate ceremony had been planned to introduce the P'lthin delegation in full regalia. Sarek's unilateral decision undid all the P'lthins preparation.

Oops.

Lunch increased the error count as Sarek and his diplomatic entourage found the P'lthin food nearly inedible. P'lthins enjoyed a varied agricultural bounty, particularly spices and flavorings. Kirk found the food acceptable if not his preference. Uhura, on the other hand, genuinely enjoyed the dishes and earned the P'lthins enduring affection for her enthusiasm. She savored several dishes spiced with a powder like cacao, a rare spice on space-faring vessels. The food reminded her of home, she told them.

For whatever reason, the Vulcan diplomatic contingent, to a person, struggled not to gag when ingesting P'lthin dishes. Every Vulcan, that is, except Spock. Spock couldn't get enough of the P'lthins foods, going back for seconds and thirds. In between bites he joined in the lively discussions between Uhura and the P'lthin delegation. Of course with that much food on his plate, he didn't have to say much. Curiously, Kirk couldn't remember seeing Spock so engaged. He made a mental note to ask McCoy for a list of exactly what meds Spock was taking; Kirk might want to try them later.

In the days that followed, ice breaking activities meant to provide a common experience and to relax the participants turned into ice making activities. The Vulcans brought several 3 level chess boards. P'lthins do not play chess. The P'lthins brought something akin to cricket bats and soft foam balls. Vulcans are not known as sporting enthusiasts. The Vulcans discussed their medical research and its potential for the P'lthins. The P'lthins discussed their most recent global spelling bee with details on the life of every student who participated. In fairness, discussions about family were tough for Vulcans before their planet's destruction. Now such discussions produced a kind of mental paralysis in every Vulcan in the room. Except Spock.

Days into the diplomatic courtship the P'lthins delivered presents, beautiful handmade art from the planet's elementary and high schoolers; the Vulcans brought technical manuals identifying improvements the P'lthins could achieve in their agricultural processing.

Another day the P'lthins invited two of their biggest vid stars to visit the delegations; The Vulcans had Spock but it was difficult to tell whose side he was on.

At each meal seating became a battle ground until the P'lthins demanded that all meals be served in the negotiations conference room. There they sat, the P'lthins - and Spock - on one side of the negotiating table eating P'lthin dishes and the Vulcans on the other eating Vulcan foods. Kirk and Uhura manned the middle like the kids who chase balls at tennis matches.

In between the mistakes and gaffes, negotiations dragged on.

So did Kirk's headache.

 


	9. Combat and Vocalise

_"Build your opponent a golden bridge to retreat across"_

\- Sun Tzu

* * *

But for the cool of the workout room, steam would have risen from Uhura's body. Not from the workout, though; cooling micro-drops of perspiration gave her coffee skin a satin glaze. No; Spock was late;  **very**  late. This after he'd pressured and pleaded with Uhura to keep their appointed workout time. With the negotiations in disarray, she had her hands full of real time translation, crisis containment and protocol responsibilities. Plus, Kirk and McCoy had her babysitting him. Hours of work waited for her attention. She stretched, beginning her warm-down when the door opened.

Her heartbeat disturbed her balance. The man before her wore a form-fitting black t-shirt covered by a grey button-down oxford shirt - the shirt front unbuttoned, the shirt tail untucked. These were complimented by a fitted, but not skin tight, pair of black khakis. Black penny loafers - without socks or pennies - completed the ensemble. His hands lay palm-down in his front pants pockets. She couldn't see his face in the shadows.  _Jim?_

It was Spock. She'd bought him the outfit during their last shore leave, making him try every piece on to eliminate the excuse he always used of "It does not fit exactly". Didn't matter; he never wore it. Until today.  _Oh my gosh,_ _ **look**_ _at him._

"Hello, Nyota"  _When did his baritone get that husky? And is that_ _ **cologne**_ _he's wearing?_

"You have me at a disadvantage. Let me get a quick shower -"

"You are perfect just as you are." With those words he walked from the darker area of the workout room directly to her. The casual smile on his face spoke of mischief and purpose. When his eyes left hers it was only to brush her neck and bare shoulder with his lips. Uhura trembled, despite her attempt to remain detached from this very unusual behavior. Was this the same man she saw in his underwear spread eagle on the floor not too long ago?

"Thank you for these clothes. They seemed more... appropriate for this evening." It was her eyebrow that went up.

"Do you know why I developed this training program for you?" he asked, slowly maneuvering her further into his coming embrace. She decided to play along.

"Because you're a sadist?' To her surprise, that comment triggered a soft, sensuous chuckle from deep within his chest.  _Dear heavens, help me..._  she thought.

"Good comeback."

_Good comeback!? Who is this guy and what did he do with Spock!?_

She felt herself losing the battle of logic in her own mind. This man, whoever he was, had every circuit in her head lit up.

"No Nyota. It is because I tried to kill a dead Klingon. Because he touched you."

She figured out what that meant only seconds before a wave of jealousy flooded her body, followed by one of protectiveness and possession.

Ever so softly, with the impact of a jack hammer, he told her -

"You belong to me."

He kissed her; slowly; gently; focusing on small parts of her lips to give them his full attention. Then he withdrew, leaving her wanting and confused.

"I have a gift for you. For all your hard work, your love, and your patience with me."

 _Is somebody writing this guy's lines? Because he's got this routine down and it's working, it's really working._ She stood there, unable to clear her head long enough to do anything but wait for his next move.

"Computer. Begin Spock Gift playlist"

A gentle jazz piano began, followed by the sonorous harmonies of an ancient jazz vocal group called the Manhattan Transfer singing "Smile Again". Spock knew she was a fan of the vocal style called vocalise and these singers had been masters in their time; a perfect blend, often a cappella, with perfect intonation. She often kept their music playing in the background in her own quarters but she'd developed the habit of turning it off when he visited; he seemed to prefer classical.

Pulling her the last inches into his arms, he brushed her hair back, lowered his lips and his voice and asked, in a near whisper,

"Would you dance with me?"

_When did Spock learn to dance!?_ _**How** _ _did Spock learn to dance!?_

His hand at the small of her back, he lead her around the room swaying into her body at all the right times in the music.

The lyrics moved past them.

"Hard to find

Our souls intertwine

Make love and float away with me..."

She heard him and nearly stumbled. He caught her without a misstep. Spock sang the chorus softly in her ear.

"You make me smile again,

Hold me in your arms.

You are my life..."

Without urgency they danced, Spock's playlist moving from favorite to favorite. He held her tenderly and, despite their closeness, controlled the passion rising within himself interminably.

"Last one" he murmured in a low, sweet, husky drawl into her ear, kissing it when he was done. And he sings again, this time in his sexy, playful baritone. The artist is Kem; the song "Love Calls".

"There's nowhere to hide

When love's calling your name..."

The remaining songs were instrumental. Uhura never noticed. Neither did Spock and it was his playlist.

There was something very, very wrong with Spock.

_Can I keep this guy for a while? Is that cheating?_


	10. Desperate Times Require Desperate Negotiations

_"Life is not always a matter of holding good cards, but sometimes, playing a poor hand well."_

\- Jack London

* * *

All days led to this day. All the petty bickering, jockeying and positioning would be set aside for the Big Reveal. Each side would disclose what it would take to close the deal.

Kirk had to give it to Sarek; despite the Prime Directive as a constraint and the limited resources of the Vulcan remnant, he'd drawn the P'lthins into discussions that New Vulcan could accomplish. At least it seemed so. Kirk's necessarily short discussions with Uhura confirmed her continued doubts that the strategy would work.

She was right; Sarek should have listened. It blew up with a resounding "Boom!".

"...Ambassador, do you take us for fools or children? We understand that New Vulcan requires substantial resources to re-establish the Vulcan peoples. Our hearts go out to those without a city or a town." The P'lthin delegates' sympathies were genuine and sincere.

"Sympathy will not blind us. New Vulcan has Federation backing. We know of your ships and bases. You have millions trained to use these ships. We see your vids showing off your resources.

"We want a star ship and we want a captain who can protect P'lthin as he protected Earth - we want Spock."

The only people in the room more suprised than the Vulcan delegation were named Kirk, Uhura and Spock. Sarek's face gave away nothing.

"Come now, Ambassador Sarek! Don't be churlish. After all it's only one ship and one captain."

The needs of the remnant were great. They had to save themselves.

Sarek did not say no.

The negotiations adjourned while Sarek and his delegation figured out where to get a Constellation-class star ship. They already had its captain.

The P'lthins were totally unaware that they had just demanded Sarek give up his only son to save the Vulcan race.

* * *

Back in his quarters Spock raged for the best part of an hour. Many items would require reattachment to the walls and celing. Some would require wholesale replacement.

"How **DARE** he!" Spock growled at 150+ decibels. The panic in her eyes, in her mind, drove him insane. He'd nearly come across the table at Sarek. How could he even consider the demand - did Spock's life and happiness mean nothing to him?

How could he sell his own son for two orbiting hunks of rock?

Sweat foaming on his body, Spock punched the replicator touch pad that now sat one-quater meter lower than the approved installation. When the cup filled he tossed it back and punched in another and another. Cups littering the floor now numbered eight.

When the first stirrings hit, he stepped away from the wall and closed his eyes.

If he was going to the highest bidder, there was unfinished business to attend to.


	11. Combat and the Battle of the Sexes

_"If quick, I survive. If not quick, I am lost."_

\- Sun Tzu

* * *

Conditioning this week served an additional purpose. With all of the translation required in real time, Uhura found herself eating P'lthin-provided meals constantly. Seasoned with a cacao-like spices, they reminded her of Africa and home. Even consuming only polite amounts put some of the weight back on her small frame that she'd shed during Spock's training regimen. Since the negotiations were stalled, she took the opportunity to step up her workout and get back to her fighting weight. It took her mind away from the P'lthins demands.

She'd nearly exhausted herself by the time Spock arrived. She hadn't expected him; no one knew better then she did the stress Sarek's diplomatic gambit was taking on him. She had hoped he would rest; he evidently had no intention.

In seconds Uhura knew this session would be different. Spock felt aggressive, feral and dangerous in her mind and she was certain those feeling were aimed at her.

"Care to spar, Nyota?" Not Lieutenant; Nyota. Uhura tuned into the force of his tone. She dared not think too long; their relationship might depend on out-thinking him in his present state of mind.

"I just finished." She toweled herself dry without haste, heading casually towards the door. Spock might be mentally unbalanced but his Vulcan cunning continued to operate effectively. Moving quickly, he flanked her, blocking her access to the door.

"Spock, I don't want to do this..." she almost pleaded. But her survival instinct told her to keep circling.  _Thanks for all the training, Spock._

"You are welcome." he smiled fiercely at her.

And then he attacked. The days and days of training on Vulcan physiology paid off. She tagged him again and again, keeping him at bay and off balance. But she couldn't bring herself to risk seriously hurting him, which proved a real disadvantage. He countered with throws and slams into the mats on the walls and floor. Not enough to hurt her, but enough to wear her down, blow by blow.

Sore and tiring, she failed to notice how close he came with each assault. When a feint failed to reach him he stepped inside her counter move, pinned her arms with his own and kissed her, biting her lower lip until it bled. Uhura's head exploded with the naked lust Spock broadcast on all channels.

Her clothes came apart in his hands. As they tumbled to the mat, he ejected his workout sweats into a corner. He had no underwear to discard. Uhura's head spun, deluged by the confusion of her own reactions and Spock's sexual insanity. He mounted her physically and psychically - bringing them both to pinnacle after pinnacle after pinnacle after pinnacle in rapid succession. With a last gasp, Spock collapsed atop her.

She lay there afterward, her arms wrapped around him, trying to figure out what had just happened. Clothing might be a concern as well.

_If the girls back on Earth only knew about these Vulcan guys..._


	12. Here's To Evolution

_"Here's to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers. The round pegs in the square holes. The ones who see things differently. They're not fond of rules. And they have no respect for the status quo. You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them. About the only thing you can't do is ignore them. Because they change things."_

\- Apple, Inc. 20th c. technology company

* * *

The negotiations recovened only to announce Sarek's most recent failure. He had not found a way to meet the P'lthin demands.

Sarek's subsequent collapse could have been predicted.

After all, he'd been trying to save his race all by himself. Had the Vulcan healers, stretched thin in their own desparate battles to save Vulcan sanity, treated him they would have unknotted the conjunction of grief, fear, purpose and duty that cascaded down on him. They would have pitied the P'lthins, forgiven them for not understanding what their request for a star ship and for his only son would do to a man trying to prevent an extinction level event. But they did not know and Sarek's mind buckled under a weight no one man - Vulcan or not - could shoulder.

It is a testament to Sarek's presence that his last conscious act sought to protect his linked diplomatic team. He had no strength to protect Spock; he believed Spock to be strong enough to protect himself...

* * *

With his fate seemingly sealed, Spock had detached himself from the arguing and shouting concerning his future - or his prison sentence depending on your point of view. In between thoughts about duty and fate, Spock glimpsed the shame in his mind about Uhura. He would have preferred that her last remembrance of him not be clouded with his loss of sexual control. That had never happened to him before. With great effort he hid these thoughts deep inside where her shields would not find them - accidentally or intentionally. Notwithstanding of his effort, the thoughts seethed and throbbed in plain view.

Spock hadn't been shielding much anyway. His recent health "issues" rendered him vulnerable to  _any_  psionic disruptions and Sarek's disruption was huge. Had he and Sarek truly bonded, this fact would have been as obvious to Sarek as the Prime Directive dilemma the P'lthins laid at Sarek's feet during negotiations. Shamefully Spock admitted to himself in weak moments that, without Uhura, he would long have succumbed to emotions more raw than any credited to humans.

It was her support that gave Spock valuable seconds. Seconds to realize his father was in mental crisis. Seconds to turn and grab the ambassador as he crumpled towards the floor; Seconds to steer his father to a waiting chair before Spock's own mind screamed. Seconds to yank himself away from her, physically and mentally, before he lost all control and pitched face-first onto the negotiating table.

* * *

Of the three, Uhura sensed the changes first.

Unfortunately, she had little experiencece with what to do when a mind collapses while you're linked.

If memory allowed, she would recall feeling some very strange sensations; more strange because they came, not from Spock - as expected, but from Sarek. Erratic, disorganized and disorienting emotions moved around her. Her skin reacted to their presence. If her mind were not affected, she would process the nausea and vertigo that accompanied Sarek's psychic scream. If she could stand the pain of memory, she would visualize the mental picture of Sarek curled in a ball crying like a scared child, keening.

Assuming his blast had not burned her out.

In real time, Uhura did not try to process Sarek's broadcast; she reacted by slamming shields up around Spock at her own expense while she figured out what the hell was happening. The shields held, with great effort, until Spock himself pushed her away.

Rejection. That's when she lost it and joined them in unconsciousness.

* * *

Kirk stood across from her where she collapsed. He got to her in a step, moving swiftly past the two inert Vulcans. Sweeping her into his arms he ran from the negotiations to Sick Bay, barking orders to McCoy who sent Med teams to recover Sarek and Spock from the conference room.


	13. That Which Does Not Kill Us

" _All you have to do is look hard enough. and what might seem to be a series of unfortunate events may in fact be the first steps of a journey._ "

\- Lemony Snicket

* * *

Uhura came to first, feeling like she'd been in a bar fight and lost. McCoy presumed, incorrectly, that the bruises he was examining were a side effect of whatever the hell had taken the three telepaths out during negotiations. To Uhura's unsettled but still functioning reasoning, right now didn't seem like a good time to explain Vulcan sexual behavior. She let him examine her, noting that she'd never seen some of the equipment he was using on her now.

"What happened?" The answer she sought came from a familiar voice outside her sight range. He still held her hand.

"Short version?" Kirk asked. "Please," she replied and closed her eyes, dizzy from looking up at him.  _What's scaring Jim Kirk!?_

"The P'lthins want a star ship or they'll not only keep the two smaller moons, they'll take back New Vulcan. And they want Spock as captain. Sarek blew a fuse - the Federation isn't listening to his request - and collapsed. He took Spock down with him. You crashed when Spock went and I brought you here."

Her head clearing, worry lined her face. "Who's babysitting the P'lthins?" Kirk's grin made her very, very nervous.

"I gave them to Chekov. They'll never understand what he's saying so the Prime Directive " Kirk spat out the two words, not his favorite "is safe and sound".

"Uhura; you ok?"

They'd been through more together than she cared to remember right this minute, yet Uhura still experienced surprise whenever Kirk got serious. Still recovering from the psychic backlash, her shields were down. Unshielded, holding his hand, it was obvious. If she'd wondered before, she now knew. Looking up confirmed her conclusion - it was written in his crystal blue eyes.  _Oh, no - Jim!?_  Mental note to self:  _Schedule dealing with this for later.._

McCoy shipped her test results along with those of the two still unconscious Vulcans to the experts at Star Fleet Medical. He wasn't sure what he'd found. He required an answer he could understand. And he needed help.

* * *

"Uhura, calm down! He's stable. C'mon now, stop crying - doctor's orders. I need him relaxed right now."

The physical resistance stopped.

McCoy returned his gaze to his tricorder as he spoke. "As soon as I get his blood chemistry back to something approaching normal, whatever  _ **that**_  is, I'll treat the rest of his symptoms. But you have to give me some time to - " Uhura cut him off.

"I can  _feel_ him! He's in pain! Why can't I  _hear_  him?" she asked tearfully. It took McCoy a minute to understand her meaning. He measured out his next words carefully.

"That's a good question. I'll be right back - don't go anywhere." A last, intense look and he walked back into his office.

Spock's pain intensified, pain she could feel radiating into her own body. The pain's source and the mechanism by which it became palpable to Uhura remained a mystery to her. Whatever was happening wasn't telepathy, at least not in the way she'd experienced before; something different was occurring. It didn't take a genius to figure out that there was only one way to get to the bottom of this.

Spock espied the intent forming in her mind. " _K'diwa. Do not try_." Weak, weak, weak; he neared the end of his strength and control. If he fell over the edge, Sarek would fall with him; that much she was sure of.

She made up her mind; Spock could not stop her. She caressed both temples and laid her forehead against his.

" _No!"_ Mental scream _. Nyota. Powerless. Mother. Too-Late. Planet. Jim. Can't-Save-Them. Duty. Love. So-Many-Coffins. Extinction._ _Hate-The-Silence. It-Hurts._

What happened next remains a topic for scholarly papers amongst a small group of xeno-physicians in Star Fleet Medical and what's left of the Vulcan Medical Academy. Simply put: Psionic shock slammed the empathic breaker in her brain to its full on and locked position.

Uhura  _felt_  Spock's emotions. Industrial-strength but different than their telepathic links, his emotions wrapped themselves around her and moved through her body like liquid. His feelings affected her physically - her body responded rapid-fire to each new sentiment, adrenaline surging and ebbing, estrogen rising and falling, serotonin spreading and receding. Doubt concerning their relationship dissolved in the liquid river of devotion that became part of the emotional torrent.

She surfed with him through the maelstrom until she had to save herself.

_McCoy. McCoy there, pushing, shoving._

"What the hell are you doing!? You let him mind meld in his condition? Uhura? Uhura!"

Words punctuated with heaving breaths, she answered McCoy's anger and fear for them both. "He didn't do it. I did. Had to know what was going on."

"No human can initiate a mind meld on a..." McCoy stopped, smart enough to not sound stupid.

A quick once-over showed improvements in all of Spock's results. Despite the mental pain, she held his hand until he surrendered to exhaustion.

* * *

"What did you just say?" So much for an understandable answer. The explanation sounded like voodoo medicine and McCoy wasn't buying a single word of it.

He ran a hand through his hair, pacing around the maze of medical equipment and furniture. "You do realize you are talking about a spontaneous mutation, right? Let me make sure I understand this: Lieutenant Uhura falls in love with a Vulcan, they do the midnight mambo a few times and that changes her brain chemistry? Well, hell's bells. Let's all sign up to date Vulcans. I would love to be telepathic."

In deference to their long friendship M'benga held his temper.

Healer T'Lar, sensing M'benga's frustration, stopped his rejoinder with a gentle touch on M'benga's arm. Clearing her throat to get McCoy's attention, she spoke in a soothing contralto.

"Before we lost our world, Vulcan scientists confirmed the impact of intense relationships on brain structure and chemistry. It is the main reason Vulcan parents bond with their children during gestation. Is it not true, doctor, that earth scientists have long known the impacts of pair bonding on the brain?"

"Well of course we have! But we're not advertising marriage as a way to read minds." McCoy retorted.  _Although, it does seem to happen - except with my 4 wives_ , McCoy thought.

T'lar remained calm in her reply. "And neither, Dr. McCoy, are we. Clearly your lieutenant is a neurologically special person."

"Not according to her medical file!" McCoy shot back. Patiently, T'Lar continued.

"Whether your Star Fleet test discovered it or not, she was born with latent psi capabilities. She and Spock both report that their telepathic connection began within weeks of spending time alone. Well before any mating behaviors began"

M'benga, noting that McCoy seemed to be back in his right mind, took over the explanation.

"So here's the surprise, Leonard. Uhura's telepathic 'pathway', let's call it, transmits and receives her empathic 'signal'. Based on the neuro-transmitter tests you sent us, she's a class 5 empath who expresses her empathic skills through telepathic links. That's a lot of broadcast and receive power. Most dual psionics use one cortical pathway for telepathy and a different sensorial pathway for empathy. We've never seen power like this through a single neural delivery channel, not even in Vulcans. T'lar, does anyone remember a Vulcan empathic telepath that strong?"

T'lar considered the question. She gently shook her head "No".

"And she's not fully active yet. The brain scans you sent us indicate she working up to full function. It will take at least a month, unless she gets caught in another psionic event like this one..."

McCoy, rubbing his stubble as a sure sign of skepticism, stated his medical opinion - "Nope; not buying it. You're reading the data wrong."

"Think about it Leonard. Even your files remark on her uncanny ability not only with languages, but with the nuance and cultural subtleties behind raw, pure language. She's getting instantaneous feedback on the effectiveness of her communications.

"Ok, ok, ok - " M'benga spat out in response to McCoy's incredulous expression

"She's fluent in Klingon. So fluent she stood down those warriors Khan tricked into attacking your away team."

McCoy had to think about that one. The ability to handle not just the language but the meaning behind Klingon was so rare in the Federation that Star Fleet paid a bounty for the talent. But McCoy needed one more answer.

"So maybe I believe it helps her 'communicate'. But why the connection to Spock  _ **and**_  Sarek? She's not dating the old man, is she?"

McCoy couldn't believe the change in the two physicians. T'lar, the confident and articulate healer, had lost her skin color and refused to meet his gaze. M'benga looked like the secret police were hiding in the Med Lab. M'benga's eyes sought T'lar's.

"That was our question too. So we took another look at your recent files on Commander Spock. Do I have your permission, Healer?"

"It seems the only logical choice. You -" she pointed to McCoy "must never reveal what you are about to hear."

McCoy could see the tension on M'benga's face.

"Sit down, Leonard. What do you know about Pon Farr?"

* * *

"Nyota, this is my responsibility." Spock implored, still woozy from the meld with Uhura. He'd awakened after a few hours rest;

"Oh no you don't!" McCoy yelled, climbing on the med bed to get Spock back to horizontal. "Get your back side back in that bed. You're not ready to be back on your feet yet. You've just started making sense!"

"Doctor, my father has experienced a severe psychic shock. Only a mind meld will get him back on his feet, to use your words."

As if things weren't bad enough, Kirk ducked into Sick Bay looking haggard. With Spock and Sarek down for the count, Kirk had been pressed into diplomatic service. Unaccustomed to diplomatic duties, Kirk found himself at the P'lthins beck and call, a common errand boy. They wanted a star ship like folks on Earth used to want cars. Right now they were honkin' the horn and kickin' the tires of his brand new star ship Enterprise and it was pissing Kirk off.

"Did I just hear Spock? Any chance he's ready to - " Kirk's plea got terminated by two determined people. McCoy and Uhura shut him down with the tandem response:

"No! Get out!" A deflated Kirk left Sick Bay as Chekov hailed him: the P'lthins wanted to enter the dilithium chamber. Kirk seriously considered letting them.

* * *

With McCoy back in his office haranguing M'benga, Spock reached for what might be his last opportunity to save his father from death or worse.

_Nyota, I have no right to..._

_Spock, just ask!_

_I need your assistance. My father's mind requires psionic healing quickly but I cannot do this... alone._

_What do I do?_

He grabbed her hand and with a decisiveness belying his recent medical troubles, placed his hands against Sarek's temple.

Surprisingly, no jarring shock occurred - an ominous sign to Spock, the experienced telepath. Moving past floating debris of recent memory, Spock sought the katra - the living spirit - within Sarek's exhausted mind. Despite his own recent challenges - or perhaps because of them - Spock found himself open to the injuries his father suffered and continued to suffer since the destruction of Vulcan. Arriving at the nucleus of his father's mind he saw them all.

If one were to draw a picture of Sarek's mind-core, it would be of a small room whose center was dominated by a chest. The chest would be protected by layers of swirling sheets. Each sheet played a scene from the burdens of Sarek's life. But where once these sheets had been whole and crisp, now they were tattered, shabby, with ragged edges and irregular holes disturbing the moving images on their surface.

Walking to them, Spock began to tenderly peel back each sheet, folding and placing it on the floor he presumed was beneath him. Here was the sheet displaying his father's melancholy at being separated from is mother during their courtship. Here, his father's father objecting to their marriage - marriage to a human. Another of Sarek holding a newborn Spock and staring in wonder. Sadness from a miscarriage; a daughter.  _My father feels sadness?_ Spock mind-thought. Slowly Spock came to the end of these protections, exposing a battered chest with a broken lock. With a mental deep breath, Spock lifted the lid.

After some time, Spock turned and left the room. Behind remained the chest, in a much better state of being and around it swirled the protective sheets, a little less shabby and with a bit more color.

Around the time the chief medical officer considered resigning his commission, things got better. McCoy, convinced that everything he knew about medicine was useless on this ship, had retreated to his office waiting for the voodoo medicine that had become the norm around here to take effect. To McCoy's relief and frustration, voodoo medicine worked.

The gasping breaths told him they were back. McCoy banged his hip and swore as he hustled over between the med beds. Against every medical fact he'd ever learned, they seemed better. Moving to the ambassador, McCoy took his time checking and double checking every reading. The results weren't perfect but they were close enough to M'benga's data for McCoy. Sarek would not die on his watch.

* * *

Sarek waited for Spock to wake on his own. Despite Spock's deft touch, Sarek knew what had been done and what been had seen. Once these perpetual crises abated, they would discuss it rationally. Right now, they had a problem to solve: how to keep possession of New Vulcan and the two satellites without breaking the Prime Directive or losing each other again to duty.

"Father, I am not asleep." Sarek lamented that he could not read Spock accurately.  _We lack a bond..._

"You have recovered well, my son. I sense... I sense control and calm."  _She matters to you..._

"She is my control. She gives me peace."  _I love her._

"You are bonded." It was a statement.  _You are bonded!_  It was a thought.

"A bond more easily maintained if we are in the same galaxies. Some types of communication require... more contact"  _As much contact as she will allow._

 _Is that humor?_ , Sarek wondered.

"This is logical; but the needs of New Vulcan and the Vulcan remnant remain. I cannot ignore them, Spock."  _I need a way out! I cannot lose you too._

_The needs of the many..._

"I do not suggest ignoring the needs of either, Father. I believe a change in strategy may well accomplish both our goals and our intents."  _Did you never play poker on Earth, Father? Pity..._

"Inform me..."

 


	14. Having the Tools and the Talent

_"To win you need to have first lost. That makes you so hungry to win that you'll do everything you can to achieve it."_

\- Brendon Clark

* * *

The P'lthins were not uncaring. Sickness occurred in their world also. So they made reasonable accommodations during the convalescence of Sarek and especially that of Spock and Uhura. The P'lthins had achieved a warm rapport with Spock and a strong affection for Uhura. They expressed genuine concern, asking as to their welfare and progress. Besides; it gave them long, glorious hours to investigate the ship,  _their_  ship.

When negotiations resumed, the P'lthins were taken by the change in appearance of the three. Uhura wore concern on her face in a way Kirk had never seen. Sarek seemed smaller and older than the master of imprecision and possibilities the Federation knew. And then there was Spock.

Spock looked like death warmed over. Haggard, bowed, Jim thought he might be seeing his friend for the last time. He surmised from Spock's gallows entrance that Sarek had run out of rabbits to pull from his negotiating hat.

Lowering himself carefully into his chair, Sarek opened the negotiations.

"I apologize for imposing on your time. Your understanding is most considerate and much appreciated." Kirk would have sworn that Sarek looked shorter in his chair. He hoped Sarek's tone didn't mean what Kirk thought they meant.

"We agree to all terms for the permanent reassignment of the planet, now known as New Vulcan and the two satellites to be known and V-Alpha and V-Omega in Federation standard."

It did mean it; Sarek had just agreed to give the young industrial society a star ship. He also just handed over his own son for an unspecified period of indentured servitude in a foreign galaxy. Without thinking, Kirk turned to look at Uhura and her tears broke his restraint.

"Sarek, you can't do this! What about the Prime Directive? What about the Federation? There's got to be something else, some other way, some.."

"...Win-Win situation?" Spock finished his sentence. "Not this time Jim. We have cheated death and destruction too many times. Our journey together ends here."

Kirk couldn't believe it; Spock, his closest friend, just raised the white flag and surrendered.

"No, no, no! This can't happen! Spock, there's got to be a way". Uhura's soft sobs only spurred Kirk on.

"Stop!" Spock's shout pulled Kirk up short.

"Vulcans have lost many precious things but not our honor. The P'lthins have been kind and fair to us. Courtesy has been their hallmark. How can we not do likewise?"

The P'lthin delegation looked confused and dismayed. Surely they realized they had won, but they were no longer certain of their footing as their win played out. Kirk saw the furtive exchanges between the P'lthin delegates as they watched the decline and end of two great men right before their eyes. This was not the hero they'd bargained for.

Turning his chair, Spock addressed the P'lthin delegation directly.

"May I speak, freely?" Kirk scrutinized Spock carefully.  _He's got to be an inch shorter than he was a few weeks ago_.

"I accept the P'lthins terms to fulfill my father's obligation to my people. We lost many when our home world was destroyed. My mother died inches from my grasp." Uhura and the P'lthins inhaled together; Uhura knew what those words cost Spock and Sarek.

"Out of respect for P'lthin customs, I must disclose the impact of my decision. My duty to complete this agreement means I cannot marry my love and my heart. To do so, to consign her to life on the P'lthin starship with me, would take her away from her family."

Uhura's barely controlled tears prompted the P'lthin delegate closest to her to ask:

"You are his betrothed?" Uhura merely nodded and returned to translation.

"An unmarried adult would normally be a disgrace as a star ship captain in your society. But I will only marry who I love. Therefore I will remain unmarried. Forever."

Kirk couldn't believe what he saw: as the translation finished there wasn't a dry P'lthin eye in the room.

Moments passed before Sarek gently cleared his throat to continue. Straining to force some life into his speech, he began explaining the clauses in the agreement.

"With the acquisition of a Constellation class starship, it will be important to identify a program for staffing and training." The P'lthins picked up on the education part. Consideration hadn't been made for how to train and staff the requested star ship.

"As Vulcans have been a spacefaring culture for some time we have some recommendations to accelerate your preparation. The most readily available source of technical personnel would be your communications engineering experts who run your entertainment infrastructure. We recommend cross training of 5 to 6 hundred of these experts to establish a base for your first mission. Simultaneous to this training, we also recommend diverting at least 1000 of your best students - preferably age 10 and under - to attend the new star ship academy. Your capital seems the best central location for such an academy. New Vulcan can assist you in screening children planet-wide for admission to the academy. For this reason, it might be best to expedite construction of the academy dormitories.

"By staging your training in this manner, the first class fully trained in the intricacies of multi-year space travel will be graduating as your first mission returns to this galaxy"

Kirk observed utter shock take over the P'lthins' expressions. Stammering, the head of their delegation posed a question.

"Returns to this galaxy? Why would the star ship need to return to this... this... galaxy!?"

Spock responded in rhythm.

"They would not have to, Ambassador, if more travel to further galaxies is desired. In my planning, I have developed 5-, 6- and 8-year missions. The ship can accommodate these easily."

Horror broke through. Realization was dawning on the P'lthins what having and operating a star ship would mean.

"You would separate families!? Collect our children and remove them from their homes!?"

Having maneuvered the boulder to the cliff's edge, figuratively speaking, Sarek gave it a final push over the edge with a well-placed finger:

"Indeed not, sir. You would.

White hot silence followed.

Sarek inquired - "Shall we discuss sustaining maintenance cost impacts to the national treasury now?"

The P'lthins requested a recess; they wanted to develop some modifications to their demands.

 


	15. Zen and the Art of Poker

_"The real glory is being knocked to your knees and then coming back."_

\- Vince Lombardi Jr.

* * *

Happy exhaustion could be seen in the body language of the room's occupants.

Kirk leaned forward on his elbows rolling his shot glass of Kentucky bourbon between his palms. To his left sat McCoy, the Southern gentleman. Leaning backwards in his chair, McCoy's feet rested on the table, one ankle over the other. He held his poison of choice, Tennessee Sour Mash whiskey, atop his chest in a silver flask with the thimble top flipped back on its hinge, ready for sipping. To Jim's right, Spock and Uhura shared a single chair. Spock sat beneath her, encircling her protectively with his arms. One hand lay lazily on her hip while the other chastely stroked her bare knee below her uniform hem. She sat sideways in his lap, her long legs crossed across his legs, one arm around his neck, the other palm-down on his chest and her head laid on his shoulder. Occasionally she would react to something said and laughter would open her eyes. Mostly she enjoyed being in Spock's arms. Beside the duo, opposite Kirk, sat Sarek with a well satisfied look on his face.

The truth of the day brought a wry smile to Kirk's face; he'd been used as straight man to Spock's grifter.  _There_  was a contradiction. But it worked; right now on P'lthin both delegations dotted the i's and crossed the t's of the deal - an agreement that didn't violate the Prime Directive or include Spock's permanent banishment to P'lthin space.

Sheepishly grinning, Kirk feigned indignation. "Ambassador, I'm not sure I'll be so quick to help out next time. I'm feeling like I just got my pocket picked." Sarek seldom grinned but he did affect a Mona Lisa smile when a situation struck him as ironic or witty. He did so now.

"With all due apologies, Captain, if you have been roughly handled, it has been by my son. The plan, in its entirety, came from his mind. He was assisted in this by your very capable new chief of protocol. My congratulations, Lieutenant." Spock's kiss to her forehead did not escape Kirk's notice. Neither did the light kiss Uhura placed on Spock's neck. Kirk couldn't read Sarek's expression at Spock's un-Vulcan-like public display of affection. Father and friend would have to adjust to this new Spock.

"Since I missed the entire show, can someone tell me what happened? Any story that includes Jim Kirk getting 'used' has to be interesting." Laughter followed McCoy's request. Spock spoke first.

"The idea, doctor, came from Lieutenant Uhura. Jim, you will recall Uhura's concern about the difference in her analysis of the P'lthins and the analysis from the New Vulcan diplomatic corps?"

Kirk nodded. "We discussed it. She thought they'd overlooked the societal drivers in their analysis. No disrespect to your staff intended, Ambassador." Kick downed the shot waiting for Spock to continue and refilled his glass.

"Where no insult is intended, none is taken, Captain" Sarek intoned.

Spock spoke gain. "Her analysis concerns were correct, a fact I discovered during the meld. You, Jim were the only one aware of this error."

Was that a twinkle in Spock's eyes? Kirk mentally pushed the buttons on the way back machine in his head.

"Uhura? I thought we talked about briefing the Ambassador?" Her eyes fluttered open.

"I never got the chance. Ambassador Sarek debriefed you while I was babysitting Spock - " from her position she could't see Spock's eyebrow incline, but Kirk did, "and I wasn't about to approach an ambassador on my own in the middle of negotiations to tell him I thought his diplomatic corps hadn't finished the job." her eyes closed again as she snuggled deeper into Spock's shoulder.

"You would've confronted me." Jim retorted.

" _That_  would've been fun." she responded without opening her eyes. Knowing chuckles broke out. Spock spoke up before their squabble escalated.

"I analyzed her findings and came to a similar conclusion. The key to negotiating advantageously with the P'lthins lay in their attachment to family and their extreme aversion to separation from their families and communities. My own research indicated that P'lthins often remain in the same towns and cities for 10 or more generations. Once I understood this, our course of action was -"

"Logical?" This jab came from McCoy as he brought the flask to his lips for a sip.

"No, doctor. I would say clear. To settle this negotiation in an equitable manner would require creating distaste for the obligations that came with having a star ship. The P'lthins would discover that their most cherished ways of living would be altered permanently. Family and friends - particularly their children - would be in space and away from home for years if the P'lthins maintained their demands for a star ship."

The silence held for a moment then Sarek spoke.

"The greatest risk to the plan lay in our inexperience with the P'lthins. Would they recognize the role of their demands in their dilemma or would avarice cause them to maintain their demands?"

Spock concurred with Sarek's statement. "I admit to having doubts. It was not my intent to live out my life orbiting P'lthin in monastic celibacy."

Spock's dead pan delivery did not mute the effect. Kirk and McCoy howled with laughter. Even Sarek, prone to conservative views, gave a small, genuine smile. Uhura's face dimpled as she sent a private poke.

_So what would you do every 7 years?_

To which Spock, without missing a beat, replied  _Die._

"A catalyst was necessary to ensure the P'lthins felt the full consequences of their choice. Lieutenant Uhura performed that role." Kirk's spit take produced another round of mirth.

"Uhura? Catalyst for what?" Kirk asked as he wiped the table with his discarded dress uniform shirt.

"Lieutenant Uhura," Sarek explained "is a powerful empathic telepath. Thanks, in part, to the mind meld with Spock, she is able to transmit emotions as well as receive them."

"Wait a minute! All those tears and sobbing - you're saying she was faking it?" Uhura couldn't fake that, not and fool Jim Kirk. He'd studied her too well.

She raised her head smiling with naughtiness. "No Jim, they were real. They just weren't all mine. I was linked to the Ambassador and to Spock the whole time. I radiated how we were all feeling directly to the P'lthin delegation. Thanks to all those lovely meals together, I had a nice understanding of how they think and feel about their families." Spock read in her mind the memory of her fear that they would be separated forever and tightened his arms around her until her muscles relaxed.

"You  **played**  the P'lthins?  _ **Empathically**_!?" Lifting his glass in a toast, Kirk sent props Spock's way. "Spock, I gotta tell ya; that was the greatest acting job I've seen. I mean, you had me believing you were going off to the hangman, taking one for the New Vulcan team. And you, Ambassador? You had me convinced New Vulcan found a way to get its hands on a star ship. But why didn't you let me in on the plan?"

"Because, Jim, you were our secret weapon."

"Hmmf?" This spoken into the bourbon.

"For our surrender to be believed, someone on our side of the negotiations had to resist capitulation. Someone had to vocally object to all of the disadvantages of the P'lthins' demands. You were our straight man." McCoy got it first and laughed at his best friend. Spock continued.

"You performed admirably. Your passionate frustration with our utter defeat and surrender convinced the P'lthins that our intent was real; we were going to give them a star ship and a captain. To perpetrate a confidence trick first requires the target to have confidence that all they are experiencing is, in fact, real."

Jim's expression of indignation was not lost on the others. "But why didn't you let me in on the game?"

"I've played poker with you; you're not that good an actor. " McCoy shot back.

"You were an amazing straight man" Uhura added, winking at him.

"I get that a lot." Her laughter gave credit to his double meaning.

"Once the P'lthins became convinced that life with and aboard a star ship wasn't all they had imagined, they were willing to settle for something more reasonable."

"Did you like our props?" Uhura asked, her eyes sparkling with devilish glee.

"I knew it! I knew you guys looked shorter!" Kick interjected between shots.

"Sarek had the New Vulcan delegation modify the chairs they brought to the Enterprise. They took 6 cm off each chair legs before the meeting. "

"How'd you give Spock that funeral parlor tan?"

Her smile widened with the answer "Makeup. Lots of it." Spock looked embarrassed at the disclosure prompting more laughter.

Quiet descended as glasses refilled and thoughts settled. Swirling the spirits in his glass, Kirk spoke the thought everyone considered after the adrenaline rush of success subsided.

"You took a pretty big risk, Spock." Jim's eyes watched Uhura.

"I had no choice. There was a great deal at stake." Spock's eyes watched Kirk.

"You played me, Spock! I cannot be- **lieve**  you did that." Uhura's yawn reminded them of the fatigue tons of P'lthins food and non-stop brinksmanship could induce.

Their exit from the room was accompanied by laughter at Kirk's expense.

 


	16. Never Confuse the Facts with the Truth

_"Truth and facts are woven together. However, sometimes facts can blind you from seeing what is actually going on in someone's life."_

\- Shannon Alder

* * *

Answering the chime brought conflict through the door and into his personal space. He'd hoped to finish the repairs on his quarters today, embarrassment preventing him from call Engineering. The living and kitchen area repairs were complete but the bedroom remained inoperable. Unfortunately, after a few days respite and time to think through the events of the last few weeks, Uhura would wait no longer to confront him about the truth of the facts she remembered.

"Spock, I've gone above and beyond the call of duty for you. Now you're going to explain to me what is going on. And which Spock am I talking to now? The Vulcan genius or Rico Suave?" Vulcans did not have a Don Juan in their cutural lexicon. They probably didn't have a Rico Suave either.

Maybe he hadn't considered all of the outcomes carefully enough.

"K'diwa.."

"No, Spock. Loving endearments, no matter how sincere, will not get you out of this. You know more than you're telling. You're shielding or I would find out myself. Start explaining NOW." He innocently moved towards her, but she stiffened.

"Don't touch me until you're done explaining."

He threw the remainder of his snack into his mouth hastily, and tried again.

"Nyota, you must understand the position you put me in."

"Me!?" The arms crossing her chest uncrossed.

"Yes. You set before me four demands before we completed our bond through marriage."

_Oh, snap!_

"From the night we discussed your prerequisites to marriage, I have been working to fulfill them. I -, we have lost much since joining the Enterprise. I would not lose you."

"Spock, I didn't realize - "

"That I found my heart? Nyota; when despair consumed me, I had you to bring me back."

 _Ok_ ,  _I don't care how many kids we have as long as I have them with you..._

"On that choice, I defer to you. It is now and will always be your choice of when and how many. Each will be a gift of your love that I will cherish."

Uhura processed the plural in his impeccable grammar.

_You just earned some real magic tonight, Mr. Spock_

"You asked that our families meet so I could properly ask for your hand. You insisted we bond during Pon Farr. My tasks were clear. To prove I could be a man who expresses his love, to... you and to our... children."

_Sarek. I am so sorry about you and your father_

"The solution that presented itself was chocolate."

The solution that he presented was a non sequitor. Uhura was lost. "Spock, I don't remember receiving any chocolate in this craziness - not that it wouldn't have been appreciated..."

"I ingested the chocolate, nearly a pound a day, if you factor in the cocoa powder in the P'lthin dishes."

"Spock? I don't get it."

"Chocolate is an intoxicant to Vulcans. And to Earth females, I believe."

"You mean you tried to OD on  **chocolate**!? That's why you were in Med Lab!? That meld hurt, Spock! Call McCoy  **NOW**  because I'm sending you  **back to Sick Bay**!"

"An overdose was not my intent. Like most intoxicants, chocolate has a strong depressive effect on Vulcans. It reduces our cultural reserve, our koh'linar conditioning and our telepathic barriers.

"I reasoned, correctly, that consumption on my part would strengthen our telepathic connection and our bond by inhibiting some of my Vulcan conditioning; chocolate would help my human side speak of my devotion to and need for you in my life"

She smiled, forgetting to be angry. She remembered the chocolate encounters very well.

"I was unaware that chocolate in large enough quantities could initiate Pon Farr." His eyes lowered as he remembered.

_I did not mean to hurt you._

Raising his eyes to meet hers again demanded effort.

The look she gave him nearly melted his clothes off -  _Trust me, you didn't._

"I regret that my miscalculation will delay our marriage for 6.97 years"

_No it won't._

Astonishment tripped him up momentarily, but he recouped and proceeded.

"I did not anticipate the impact of my... openness on your latent telepathic and empathic skills. Until the meld in Sick Bay, I did not recognize how potent your skills are. We are now bonded  _empathically and telepathically_. All of my mental demons since the loss of Vulcan are experienced empathically and broadcast telepathically by you."

Spock let her absorb that much, especially the word "bond"; the reality would forever change her understanding of his Vulcan control. Discretion stayed him from revealing to her the irrevocable choice he'd made for them both the night of her 18th birthday.

"Further explanation dictates that I ask two questions. I believe I know the answers but I need your response. Nyota - was I your first?"

The question surprised her, particularly since Vulcans have photographic memories. He could not have forgotten; but he asked, so she answered.

_You know that to be true. Yes, Spock you were my first._

He locked his eyes to hers and asked the bookend question.

"Have I been your only?"

_Spock, what's this about -_

He interrupted her and asked aloud again "Have I been your only lover, Nyota?"

"Yes, Spock. There has never been anyone else. Do you want to tell me why this matters?"

"I spoke with Dr. M'benga at Star Fleet medical. He specializes in Vulcan reproductive physiology. With the destruction of Vulcan certain.." he stopped, struggling to finish the sentence. "challenges exist within our scattered populations. He asked the same questions of me. My answers were identical."

She knew he'd never dated a human woman before he met her but she'd never had the courage to ask him about others.

"First couplings produce psionic bonds stronger than any other between a man and a woman. Dr. M'Benga believes that your psionic emergence, particularly your ability to initiate a meld with me, could be a result of our monogamous status." Spock paused to make sure he got the sentiment right before he spoke.

"He believes that my Pon Farr burst upon me as early as it did because we are already bonded, that we bonded on Earth during our time at the Academy. The chocolate released what my heart already knew. I sought you during Pon Farr, Nyota, because you are my mate. Were we separated by galaxies, I would have to find you every 7 years or die trying.

"You belong with me, Nyota. Whether we marry or not; you are my bond mate."

When the time was right, he'd explain that Kunat-So'lik guaranteed that reality.

Spock noted her response - how her respiration increased ever so slightly and her lips were parted as she let his words sink in. Her eyes grew big as the meaning sank deeply into her secret heart. No matter where she was Spock would find her because his mind and body recognized its complement.

"Our collapse at the negotiations relates to this bond."

Uhura sat quietly, giving him time to finish.

"My father has been using his considerable telepathic ability to sense suicidal depression in our people on New Vulcan and elsewhere. To do so required him to open himself up, beyond his normal boundaries. This sensitized him to my distress. The P'lthin demands disquieted me beyond my ability to cope. To save New Vulcan would require my separation from you forever. My proximity to you amplified my despair. My father's channel became overloaded."

"Spock, I am so sorry."

"You are blameless. It was an unforeseen consequence."

Drained, Spock sat next to his beloved. He gently took both her hands in his own, rubbing her wrist suggestively, before almost whispering "The negotiations with the P'lthins, provided an unexpected opportunity to get my father on-board the Enterprise. I regret I have not determined a way to get your parents to the Enterprise."

She kissed him and noted the taste of something sweet and familiar. It was chocolate! Surprised, she pulled away from the kiss and saw the mischief in his eyes.

"Excuse me a moment" he said mysteriously and left the room. He returned in silk pajamas bottoms, bare-chested. Uhura had begged him forever to wear them; he claimed a preference for nudity.

In the living area, he spread a blanket and pillows on the floor, turned down the lights and lit the Vulcan candles one by one.

"Dance with me, Nyota."

Music, cued to that phrase, floated into the room. Quincy Jones' "Secret Garden" started the set.

_Good choice._

_I am glad it pleases you. Silk is nice but I prefer your touch._

Extending his hand to her, he smiled shyly. In his arms, she laughed.

_Where did you learn to dance, Spock?_

_My mother taught me. I was her "partner"; Father could never learn the steps. As the son of a diplomat, she thought I might use the skill someday._

_Wise woman, your mother..._

Watching her doze next to him, Spock made a mental note to revise the workout routine during their next Pon Farr.

Waching Spock, deep in relaxation, Uhura wondered -  _Can I teach him to salsa?_

* * *

When his door chimed, Kirk ignored it. He already had enough company for the evening thanks to a traveling acrobatic group whose transports needed some engine work. Jim returned his attention to his guest, predicting that the closed door would educate the bell ringer.

He did not, however, predict that the doors would open without his permission and Leonard McCoy would storm in. Flashing a rogue's grin Jim asked his guest to "Keep my spot warm" then rose to intercept McCoy before he could penetrate too deeply into Jim's nightly plans.

"Jim - "

"Hello, doctor. Good to see you as always. I hadn't heard there was a medical emergency in my quarters so could you explain to me why you used the emergency medical override -" It took Kirk a minute to realize that McCoy had power-walked to the couch and was attempting to escort his guest to the door by the arm, all the while muttering apologies and promises Jim would have to keep.

Quickly moving to save his evening, Kirk grabbed one of his guests unused 5 arms. "Wait a minute, wait a minute! What's the problem, here? Kirk kissed the nape of her long neck, forgetting to keep his hold on her arm. "Bones, listen, I'll meet with you tomorrow"

"Tonight's better. Goodnight Miss, he'll call you in the morning. Maybe." This last to the girl whose confused expression left an after-image through the doors closing behind her.

When his shock wore off, Kirk ran his hands roughly through his hair which did nothing for his boyish good looks. Walking in aimless circles he composed himself enough to speak in Federation Standard again. "This better be good, Dr. McCoy. What the HELL is your problem!?"

"Nothing a little trip to that nice P'lthin tourist planet won't cure" Kirk glared at McCoy who seemed to be writing a note. With a pen and paper.

"What? So now I need permission?" Intrigued, he moved towards the table just as McCoy finished and handed him the note.

"You just might, Jim" Something in McCoy's tone got his attention. If it hadn't, the note did.

-Say nothing. Need a place with no video or audio recording. Concerns Uhura-

"C'mon," Jim's eyes rose to meet McCoy's. McCoy grabbed his arm, "You drive and I'll tell you all about some fascinating research I just read on emergent evolution." Nodding, Jim grabbed a jacket on his way to the door.

"Oh, yeah? Is it interesting?"

"The guys in Section 31 think so" McCoy said, whisper quiet.


	17. The Art of the Possible

_"One has no rules, is not precise,_

_One rarely acts the same way twice._

_One spares no device,_

_Practicing the Art of the Possible."_

\- Tim Rice -  _Evita_

* * *

As the newest acknowledged non-Vulcan expert on Vulcan culture and linguistics, Uhura knew to arrive comfortably early. The doors opened on their own at the appointed time.

"Thank you, Lieutenant, for your assistance to New Vulcan. Neither Spock nor I could have completed the negotiations so successfully without you. Thanks to you, Vulcans have room for expansion and the Prime Directive maintained its spirit, shall we say."

"You have honored me with your praise, Ambassador"  _What a rascal he is! Spock could learn a thing or two from this one. Of course we still have James Kirk if Spock needs a rogue model..._

For the first time since boarding the Enterprise, Sarek looked his age.  _Does he have the strength to relocate and repopulate his people?_

_She knows._

Sarek wondered how strong she was; that answer was now obvious. She lacked experience, but that would come in time. His strength restored somewhat, he could deep think without her awareness. One day he wouldn't have the strength.

"That thought concerns me as well. And I note that your bond with Spock has improved our ability"  _to communicate in his absence. Yes, Lieutenant. You honor me with your thoughts. You have a commendation coming from New Vulcan. When will your parents arrive for the ceremony?_

 _Wow!_ , she thought,  _it's amazing how clear Sarek came in_.  _I have not informed them, sir. As you know, sir, they are in private practice. Their patients make it difficult for them to visit._ Sarek read the disappointment in her reply.

_It will be taken care of. I would have them see this new world of ours. Continue to learn our ways and to teach us yours. Look after Spock. He will need your strength in the coming days more than ever. As will I._

_As I can, with all that I have. Thank you, sir._

_Not sir, not to you. I am Sarek, father of Spock._

_And I am Nyota, bond mate of Spock._

She spoke truth.  _This will complicate future events._  No matter; all plans require adjustments to emerging circumstances. He'd learned that from humans, too. He scrutinized her again.

 _She doesn't know._ Sarek, the wily protector of the Vulcan remnant, would use that too.

* * *

Sarek spent the afternoon with messages and confirmations. When he finished, New Vulcan had a new xeno-sociologist and a new xeno-psychiatrist assigned rotating through every 7 months for the next 5 years. The suicides wouldn't stop immediately but Vulcans would no longer be silent about their collective grief.

Sarek would let them inform their daughter of their new assignments. She would be inclined to do whatever she could to help them; he would need that advantage over her.

It seemed the logical way to proceed.

It would make up, in some small way, for what he was compelled to do to them in a very short while.


	18. Brave New World

_"Don't Panic"_

- Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

* * *

Never play poker with an empath.

It was Game Night for Kirk's Enterprise family. McCoy folded again, afraid his aces wouldn't hold up against whatever she had. Tonight Uhura mopped the floor with them all.

Spock, who had a vested interest in staying in her good graces, acquiesced to her streak - he just laid (his hand) down and let her win.  _Door mat,_ McCoy huffed.

Kirk's competitive ire increased in direct relation to her pile of chips. He held on to the bloody end and she used him like a dirty dish rag.  _Good thing those two never got together,_ McCoy reckoned,  _between the_   _fighting and the loving_   _the heat would've melted the bulk heads._

Chekov, too young to hide his tells, got spanked like a baby. Twice she'd taken pity on him, returning captured chips from her mounting pile.

Scotty would have been in better shape if he'd been sober enough to pay attention, but why bother to show up if you're going to stay sober?

Sulu, a student of the game and a cool customer to boot, held his own against her; his pile had barely moved from its size at the game's beginning.

Making a great show of frustration, McCoy decided to make himself useful by refilling the drinks of his friends. The last of the night owls had abandoned the mess hall hours ago, leaving the room full of echos.

"Hey!", McCoy called over his shoulder "what're you having?" He listened for replies as he approached the replicator.

"Wodka!" Chekov chimed in. McCoy wasn't fooled. "I'll just change that one to a strawberry milk shake" he retorted.

"Grasshopper" Sulu decided. Sophisticated, thought McCoy

"Bour-" McCoy cut Kirk off - "You I got"

"Laddie, why're you asking?" to which McCoy replied "Scotch, neat. Double. Real stuff"

That left 2 requests.

"Cardassian Sunrise, Spock?" McCoy asked. "Please, doctor" came the polite reply.

"Alright, Cardassian Sunrise, a shot of Jack and we're done"

"No Jack for me, Leonard. Make mine ginger ale." McCoy's ears perked up. Uhura could drink men twice her size under the table. This was odd.

"Are you sure?" McCoy made sure he watched her as she gave her reply. He had a hunch.

Her laugh carried music across the room. "Not playing against you vultures. I'm on a streak. I need my head clear"

"Alright, if you say so. I'd rather get you drunker than hell; might get some of my chips back." McCoy yelled back as he poured himself a real, flavor-laden shot of Tennessee whisky from the flask on the counter.

 


	19. Killing Him Softly

_"Because, if you could love someone, and keep loving them, without being loved back . . . then that love had to be real. It hurt too much to be anything else."_

\- Sarah Cross

* * *

The insistent door chime annoyed him from sleep he thought he'd earned. Muttering while he got decent, Jim Kirk focused on creative punishments for his "visitor". His mood worsened when, after fighting with it for minutes, he realized he had his pants on backwards and his shirt on inside-out. "Enter, dammit. Ow!", the last utterance in response to a stubbed toe.

"Alone  _ **and**_  asleep? Maybe your reputation isn't deserved, Captain."

Uhura. Wearing a subtly colored caftan that came to her mid-thigh. She moved and he noticed her hair, loose and swaying with the rhythm of her walk.  _Spock gets this all the time. There is no jus-_

"I heard that, Captain."

"Heard what!? I didn't say anything... out loud."  _Quick,_ a thought flashed,  _go on offense "_ I thought that only worked when you had a bond, you know - like you and Spock or Sarek. And aren't you still pissed off at me?"

"Hmm..." Almost purring. She moved within arms reach, the buzz she always felt in his presence tickling her skin. He didn't touch her, but he wanted to.

"Hell yes. I'm still mad at you - Spock could've lost his mind. Of course you didn't know Spock's condition was self-inflicted. And neither one of you geniuses could predict my mutation."

She moved even closer then spoke again, quietly. "As for my ability to know what you're thinking, what do you think it means?" Dark irises pinned him to the spot.  _If she doesn't stop doing whatever she's doing, Spock and I will be fighting again._ Kirk looked stunned when she laughed at his  _private_ thought.

"We  _are_  bonded, Jim. Nero and Khan bonded us as a crew. Bones, Sulu, Scotty, all of them, we're more than crew mates - we're  _family_." She closed the distance between them without touching him. He could smell her scents, applied and natural, and it messed up his concentration. This needed to end before he did something really stupid and had to kill his best friend.

"When we collapsed, you came to me first."

 _I got her!_ "You're a girl, uh, woman. I have a few manners."

"Very few. You carried me. There's no better amplifier then touch - " and she placed her hands fondly on his face. Helplessly he sank into her consciousness and ceased to hide from her, secretly hoping it would prolong their contact. God help him, he'd never known a woman like her; never loved a woman until he met her. Uhura read that too.

Slowly she slid her hand away, receding gently from his mind.

"You will always be important to me, James Tiberius Kirk - Captain of the U.S.S Enterprise." Kirk heard the sassiness he loved in her mock seriousness. Then, turning away from him, she moved to the door. The distance between them increased; he ached, wondering if, after that experience, the ache would ever end.

"And you will always be a special friend, Jim." Doors swooshed open and closed.

She'd left a PADD drive on the table for him. He plugged it in and the auto-start played the first song. Uhura had a thing for ancient music. The first song came from the soundtrack to some vid called "Dick Tracy". He understood why she'd selected it with the first strains of the melody.

It was called " _What Can You Lose_?"

Back in bed as the music played in his quarters, James Kirk flipped his pillow again trying to find a dry spot.

 


	20. Combat: 0 - Surrender: 1

_"The best victory is when the opponent surrenders of its own accord..."_

\- Sun Tzu

* * *

Between recovery from the P'lthin negotiations and the side effects of her spontaneous psionic emergence, Uhura hadn't been herself for weeks. Waves of nausea continued to occur unpredictably. McCoy recommended she take some time off but that interfered with her ambitions aboard the Enterprise. She hid her bouts of sickness from Spock - he made up the duty schedules; the hiding took effort. Thus, through her own hard-headedness, she returned to work too soon.

Spock processed her return to work as a signal that their training could restart. He was anxious to move past Vulcan physiology to Klingon. He'd never met a woman with her ability to absorb not just language but culture; she'd need that to bring down a blooded Klingon warrior. Remembering and targeting Dim Mak contact points on beings covered in built-in skeletal armor plating and sporting dual redundant nervous systems would challenge her. He'd moderated the program to accommodate her recovery. That said, Spock couldn't wait for the challenge.

Uhura could wait for the challenge. She felt like crap.

The workout started well enough. She felt pretty good after the running; if she got a bit light-headed after the hurdles, it was to be expected considering recent events. She rested just a bit and her head cleared. Stopping to hydrate, she moved on to sparring.

Trouble arrived shortly into the mock combat. By her third attempt to tag him, she understood how much trouble had entered the room. She would have backed off if Spock hadn't goaded her.

_You have tagged me harder during love-making. Lieutenant._

He meant to piss her off and succeeded.

Recklessly, given her condition, she attempted to render him unconscious to teach him a lesson. She got him twice, causing him to back up to clear his head and regain his balance. His slight smile should have warned her; she rushed the third tag and he spun her 180 degrees in his counter.

That did it. She bent over double, dropped on hands and knees, and shook with dry heaves.

 _I'm not going to throw up_  -  _I'm not going to throw up - I'm not going to throw up_

Spock, moving quicker than she expected, came to her with a waste receptacle and trouble took over her body. He held her as she emptied what little remained in her, supporting her aching stomach muscles and keeping her hair away from the trouble.

"I believe we are done" Spock said, concerned.

* * *

"The greatest victory is that which requires no battle"

\- Sun Tzu

"Feeling better?" McCoy asked Uhura as she sat up. The empathic emergence affected her equilibrium, causing transient nausea. McCoy thought she'd gotten a handle on it - and for a while, she had - but this trip to Sick Bay made twice she'd been relieved on the bridge in as many weeks.

"I'm not sure. I've been reading up on empaths; this doesn't usually last this long after emergence. I wonder if Betazoids go through this?" She blinked rapidly to focus but the room began to spin all over again.

"Whoa!" He caught her as she swooned and laid her back down. "Let's give this some more time. Most empath emergence happens in infants, not adults. Babies throw up all the time." Her stomach churned at the mention of throwing up.

"Has anyone mentioned your bedside manner?"

"All the time. Relax, Uhura; we've got the whole place to ourselves. No need to rush things, unless you think being here might boil that green stuff your boyfriend calls blood. Rest. That's an order Lieutenant."

Typing into her med file, McCoy scheduled a number of tests for Uhura. He would have her return in two weeks.

 


	21. Epilogue

The Vulcan star base near Epsilon Eradarii stood as the only advanced medical facility left in the Vulcan inventory. Wait list times for the Vulcan remnant extended to months. But when James Kirk requested permission to dock and have a crew member treated, his request hit the top of the list.

McCoy punted to the Vulcan physicians when Uhura's nausea prevented her from eating for weeks. They had the best available experience with emergent evolution relating to psionic capabilities. He'd forced her onto the emergency medical leave list and kept her there. McCoy's concern extended to Spock; poor guy was going crazy with concern. When he wasn't on the bridge, he sat holding her hand (and occasionally, when no one was looking, holding her). When he was on the bridge, McCoy caught him maneuvering the SickBay cameras to check on her. McCoy would have done a double take if he'd known that a second bridge officer did the same during Spock's off-duty hours.

* * *

Arriving at the base, McCoy raised more alarms with Spock by having Uhura med-evac'd to the base hospital. So much for a dignified departure. McCoy followed his patient in a shuttle with Spock, piloted by Kirk.

While the courtesy and quiet efficiency of the Vulcan medical staff did not surprise McCoy, their deferential treatment of Uhura and Spock on arrival did. Local staff relieved him of most of the routine duties an attending physician would perform at any other base hospital in the quadrant.

With nothing to do, McCoy traipsed behind Uhura to her suite through pathways reserved for med staff and patients to await her examination. She napped while Spock and Kirk breached the patient visiting protocols to enter her room.

"So how many laws did you break getting in here?"

"Enough" Kirk spat back, irritated, "Stiff-necked elves and their rules. Just have to out-think their 'logic'" Kirk's exasperation with the hospital management added one more situation where rules were stupid.

"How'd you breach the walls?"

"He told them he was her brother" Spock's exasperation at Kirk's grandstanding was almost as funny as McCoy's mental image of Kirk proving a sibling relationship with Uhura.

"Wait a minute? They could check her file to verify that. How'd he get past that?"

"I told them to check me telepathically for a familial bond When they found it, they let us in. Uhura told me it was there. How is she?"

McCoy rechecked the monitors before answering, noting that Kirk got the question in before Spock.

"Stable. Her caloric intake is better. She was already at her fighting weight; not many reserves to call on."

McCoy checked Spock out; he wasn't used to being without her and it showed.

"How you holding up, Spock?" Spock's jaw tightened before he responded.

"I am looking forward to some answers.

* * *

While Uhura slept, the feeding bag dripping nutrients steadily into the IV, the 3 Musketeers bivouacked in her room.

Pulling chairs and tables from nearby locations, the room soon took on a lived in quality that McCoy hoped wouldn't last long. Kirk lifted a deck of cards from somewhere and pretended to play poker with McCoy. McCoy, anticipating the trials the day might bring, fortified himself and Kirk with two flasks - one of Kentucky bourbon and one of Tennessee sour mash. These sat next to the players untouched. Spock stood by the window looking at God knows what. McCoy forbade him from touching her while she slept, lest that bond of theirs disrupt her sleep and he demanded Spock stay shielded in her presence. The shielding would help Spock as much as Uhura; he could save his strength for when they both would need it.

The door opening snapped them all to attention, recognition spreading across McCoy's and Spock's faces.

"M'Benga! I didn't know you were stationed here"

"Leonard. Commander. Actually, I just got here from Star Fleet Headquarters. I've been assigned as attending."

M'Benga's feet never stopped their progress towards her bedside. Kirk waited for the examination's end before introducing himself.

"James Kirk"

"Kofi M'Benga. Good to finally meet you, Captain"

M'Benga turned back to Spock before speaking again, much to McCoy's amusement and Kirk's frustration.

"There's a cocktail of meds I'd like to administer, Commander, to get her past the nausea. She's still showing neuro-receptor expansion in both cortexes and the limbic areas. Amazing. You must care for each other a great deal."

M'Benga, a specialist on Vulcans, stated the obvious to avoid the necessity of a response from Spock. The Vulcan standing before him was like no other in the diaspora.

"We do, doctor. As do all here with her today." M'Benga's shock at the buzz coming off of Spock and Kirk resolved into careful consideration. He turned, rerunning some tests and adding additional. Only after he checked and rechecked his results did he speak.

"You have shared telepathic links with her in the recent past?"

The answer "Yes" came from two mouths - Spock's and Kirk's.

M'Benga signaled McCoy with his eyes to come with him before leaving her bedside. He wanted a private conversation with McCoy before he made his final decisions as attending.

"I'll get this formulated and we'll get the treatment started. Gentlmen."

M'Benga turned towards the door and left with McCoy in tow. Spock and Kirk were left to consider their sharing of Uhura's ample mind.

* * *

"Have a seat" M'Benga pointed to a comfortable chair in the staff lounge then selected one for himself.

"Interesting case, Leonard. She has always been a remarkable young woman." McCoy wondered whether this was still a medical conversation or something different. M'Benga's next statement rattled him even more.

"You knew she was pregnant, right?"

"Hell no! I thought she was but all the tests said she wasn't. That's why I came here - the emergence was the only diagnosis left."

"I thought you might not. We didn't see any Vulcan-Human O.B. patients in our private practice, as I recall. Blastocysts in Vulcan-Human hybrids don't pump out much HCG. You have to recalibrate to look for progesterone changes both as raw counts and in ratio to estrogen."

McCoy caught the past tense.

"You said 'was'. Spontaneous miscarriage?"

"Yes. She's passing the tissue now. But there's still significant endocrine impact. That's the source of the nausea, the conjunction of the pregnancy and the emergence working on her brain at warp 10."

M'Benga stretched and yawned.

"Sorry! Long day."

"Don't. We're in the same club. Let me ask you something: you took a damn long time with those readings - I'm a snoop; sue me. Why?"

"I have to tell you Leonard, I almost thought my readings were wrong. The buzz those two guys were giving off made me re-run the DNA tests on the tissue to figure out which one was the father. She's got bonds to both."

"Bonds?"

"Uh-huh. They're damn strong too but they're different. That's why I reran the tests. Spock's the one; he's the father."

"What do you mean by 'buzz'? How the hell do you?..." McCoy's mind slugged through the evidence at hand.

"You're a telepath!"

"No. I'm an empath. Not in Uhura's class, but sufficient."

M'Benga smiled at McCoy's incredulous look.

"When were you going to tell me? Dammit, man - we used to be partners!"

McCoy's irritation brought a laugh from M'Benga.

"I have a Vulcan grandmother. She was deployed on one of those deep space science research vessels with a good-looking guy from Earth's Congo region - my grandfather. Nature had a plan one dark and starry night." M'Benga laughed.

"And before you ask - yes that's why I specialize in Vulcans, especially Vulcan-Human combinations. And no, I do not experience Pon Farr."

"Too much information." the acerbic physician interjected to M'Benga's Pon Farr confession.

M'Benga grew serious, gathering himself before speaking again.

"Leonard, what I'm about to say may go against the way you're practicing medicine on the Enterprise and if it does, I understand. But we've known each other a long time. Just hear me out before you make a decision.

"I would recommend against telling Uhura or Spock about this pregnancy. At this moment, neither one of them has any emotional reserve. Spock's in no shape to grieve another death - especially not his own child."

McCoy considered this.

"If you're worried, don't be. It's so early they have not established a telepathic link. Uhura will just believe all the stress delayed her cycle a few weeks and they can start adjusting to life after emergence."

"M'benga, you're the attending. You don't need my concurrence."

"You're with them everyday. I want to make sure I'm reading them right. This pair bond is unique: Spock's childhood mate died on Vulcan. Both he and Uhura were virgins and are monogamous. They are intertwined in ways that make my head hurt to think about."

"What about the bond to Kirk?" McCoy could't believe he was asking this.

"It's different but just as strong as the one to Spock. More like a beloved brother, maybe?"

"An ANNOYING LITTLE brother. The annoying kind. I concur; let's keep it simple. You'll handle the med files?"

"She's here as a VIP, Vulcan diplomat's dependent; the files are sealed. By the way, I don't see any reason for them not to have a bunch of healthy kids once the world is back on its axis. They produced this one on their own. Should work for them the next time"

"Amen to that."

They rose and headed for the dispensary.

"Hey, I owe you a solid. Thanks for requesting me." M'Benga busied himself with the nausea formulation.

"Requesting you for what?"

"To be attending. C'mon Leonard, don't be modest. I got a priority alpha emergency dispatch from you via Star Fleet. Why do you think they pulled all those strings for her?"

All business now, McCoy asked to see M'Benga's PADD. There it was, right there signed by Leonard McCoy and endorsed by the head of Star Fleet medical.

Except he hadn't sent it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ending sets up the next story. I promise you it's in production; I can't promise you when it will be completed.
> 
> Hints: Spock does indeed leave to solve the Vulcan repopulation problem. Sarek's master plan is involved. Uhura becomes a free woman, sort of. Kirk is charged with her care. Bones remains unready for V-H obstetrics. Past that I haven't written.
> 
> Thanks again for hanging in there. Another 100 years and I'll have this writing thing down.


End file.
